The Story of Us
by WENN9366
Summary: Enos dreamed of being a Ridgerunner like his father, but when the only life he has ever known is destroyed, destiny has other plans. In the end, he finds that family is not always flesh and blood. Enos/Daisy close friendship. Somewhat dark, but realistic, and true to canon. Backstory for Beneath a Hazzard Moon and Halls of Stone & Iron. Adventure/Hurt-Comfort/Grief/ANGST *COMPLETE*
1. Days of Innocence

_A/N: Though this history of the Strate and Duke families won't be found anywhere in the series, I've tried my best to stay true to what we do know about the two of them. I'm a stickler for details and keeping things in canon so you'll see many people and events that are familiar along the way. My goal for this history is a seamless transition into the series._

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><p>"<em>Out on the road, there are fireflies circling -<br>deep in the woods, where the lost souls hide.  
>Over the hill, there are men returning -<br>trying to find some peace of mind..."_

_-Opeth_

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><p>Summer, 1962<em><br>_

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><p>Life in the Blue Ridge mountains had changed little since the Scotch-Irish had settled in over a hundred and fifty years before, bringing with them their customs and traditions, along with a close knit sense of community with a distaste for outside interference. The soil in the foothills was rocky and unsuited to crops, so like their ancestors from the old world, the residents of northwestern Hazzard County made do with what they'd been given. Making moonshine was more than a tradition, it was a way of survival, and the hills and ridges were dotted with stills, well hidden from the tax collectors that had come calling ever since 1933 when Prohibition had ended and the tax on whiskey had begun.<p>

Being a ridge-runner wasn't an occupation Otis Strate was especially proud of, being in all other respects a fine, law-abiding citizen, but it put food on the table and in these parts it wasn't fit to quibble over the legality of something his family had done since before they'd come to the New World. His moonshine was some of the best, too, and he still made it like it was supposed to be, without all the shortcuts most of the kids were trying – the one's that made you blind or set you one foot in the grave with the first swig. He himself didn't drink, not anymore. Age, wisdom, and seeing one too many bootleggers flip their cars over the ridge had scared him off of it except for medicinal purposes.

Today they'd had company, Otis' sister-in-law, Mary, had come by, but things had quickly escalated between the two sisters and Otis and his son, Enos, had escaped to the relative peace of the porch.

"Pa', what's Momma an' aunt Mary fussin' about?" For ten year old Enos, hearing his ma' yelling at someone was a regular occurrence, though like as not it usually tended to be himself or his pa'.

"It ain't yer business, son. 'Sides, you're too young t' understand if I told ya'."

Enos looked up from the stick he was trying unsuccessfully to whittle into anything recognizable. "I ain't a baby no more, Pa'," he complained, sourly.

Otis Strate just laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. "Don't try t' grow up too fast, Enos. It ain't as much fun as ya' think it is. Your ma's just gratin' over th' fact that your aunt's sparkin' a revenuer."

"Huh?"

"John Mayfield's courtin' yer aunt."

"Oh..."

Mr. Mayfield was the youngest revenuer they'd had up here in a while, Enos had heard his pa' talking to Moses Davenport about it just a few weeks before. His parents had even had him up for supper, a fact which confused him to no end. While he seemed like a nice enough guy, everybody knew his daddy ran shine, and having the local revenuer over at their house just seemed to him like offering the foxes a couple chickens for their trouble of getting locked out of the hen house. He'd told his pa' that, to which he'd merely answered that you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar, and it was always best to be on good terms with your enemies than not.

The debate inside took on a new pitch and less than a minute later, the screen door slammed open, whacking the side of the house with a resounding 'smack' as Mary Tribble, his mother's younger sister, stormed out of the house, across the porch, and down the steps where Enos and his father sat.

She turned around, her face flushed in anger. "You just stay out of it, Agnes! You think everything an' ever'one's your business, well I'm not – not anymore! I love him an' he loves me, an' I don't care what his job is. Maybe he'll get me outta these God-forsaken hills!"

Ages Strate wasn't moved. "Don't you come callin' on _us_ when he turns y' in, Mary. All he's after's yer virtue an' findin' out when Otis' runnin' again. Mark my words, sister."

"If momma heard you talkin' like that, she'd let you have it!"

"Momma ain't nothin' but bones an' worm food fifteen years come next spring, an' I reckon her spirit don't need t' be bothered with th' likes of you," she said. "Now get outta here."

Mary turned and left and Agnes Strate's eyes settled on Enos. "Enos, can't you do nothin' without makin' a mess? Get them shavin's off th' steps right now!"

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed, brushing them from the step into the grass, relieved to see her turn inside once more, closing the screen door behind her.

Otis watched his wife as she disappeared back into the house, feeling for the boy who seemed to find more of her ire than he deserved. "There's a 'shine-moon' tonight," he told Enos, who's eyes immediately brightened. A Shine-moon was his pa's word for a full-moon and it meant he'd be going on a long run overnight.

"You're takin' me with ya', right Pa'? To Aunt Lavinia's? Please Pa', I _swear_ I'll stay outta trouble."

His father laughed. "How is it that two kids can find more scrapes t' get into? Tell me again why ya' dyed Lavinia's best table cloth black?"

"We didn't aim t' dye it black," muttered Enos. "Daisy said she had a recipe fer invisible ink an' we needed somethin' t' try it on."

"How in heaven's name would ya' think that motor oil, kerosene, an' tar could make any kind of ink, let alone invisible?"

Enos shrugged. "It was her idea."

"That ain't no excuse, Enos," he said, sternly. "She's two years younger'n you, an' _you_ oughta know better. Cost me a run payin' Lavinia for it, an' you've still got extra chores t' get done t' pay _me _for it. Which, if you're wantin' t' go tonight, you'd best be doin'."

"Yes, sir." He scrambled off the porch and headed around back. Enos' parents were as different as night and day, and just the thought of letting his pa' down was enough to make him sorry enough to never do it again. Besides that, if he was on bad terms with his father, he'd make him stay at home with his ma' when he had a run instead of dropping him off at the Duke farm, and that was just about the worst punishment he could imagine.

Uncle Jesse and Aunt Lavinia weren't blood related to the Strates, but Jesse and his pa' ran shine together, along with Moses Davenport. The couple had no children of their own, but a round of unfortunate circumstances had brought them three cousins to raise; Luke who was a few months older than Enos, Daisy who was eight, and Bo who'd just turned three. Lavinia, after noticing Agnes Strate's temper and harshness with her son, had taken Enos under her wing as though he were one of the family, and the happiest times of his young life had been spent gathered around the Duke's kitchen table.

Though Luke was closer to his age, most of Enos' time was spent with Daisy, either fishing at Hazzard pond or getting into some sort of trouble. As an only child living in the middle of moonshine territory, Enos had few friends, and Daisy was like a sister to him. He thought the sun rose and set on the girl and, unlike her cousins, he was usually game for any idea she might come up with.

The sun was already beginning to set when Enos climbed into his father's 1951 Hornet and they made their way south and then east, down the dusty dirt roads of Hazzard towards the Duke farm. It was a good twenty minute drive at the speed limit. Enos' pa' never sped with him in the car, much to the boy's chagrin, nor was he allowed in the car when he was hauling 'shine. Otis Strate had bigger dreams for his son than being a back-woods moonshiner.

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><p>John Mayfield was no stranger to the Blue Ridge Mountains. His mother had died when he was too little to remember, and his father had been a violent man who'd drank himself to death at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, when Johnny was only six. It had relegated him an orphaned ward of Macon County, North Carolina, just across the Georgia border.<p>

He'd dreamt of being a cop since he was little and he'd graduated from the Police Academy two years ago in 1960. Times were tough in the area, though, and without the pull of family influence, no one had wanted to hire him except for the Internal Revenue Service, which was always putting out calls for new recruits.

He'd been naïve when he'd taken the job, not not fully understanding what it meant to be a revenuer, but he soon found out just how deep the split between the mountain folk and the IRS really was. It hadn't even been easy working with the local law. Hazzard County's Sheriff "Butch" Harris didn't like to rile people who he didn't _see _breaking the law and had even gone so far as to clue in some of the ridge-runners as to when he would be passing through.

Johnny wouldn't have minded so much if the IRS hadn't set a quota on his head, but like as not, they had. The kids who ran moonshine were an easy catch - inexperienced and looking to make a quick buck, but the big hauls were done by the older folks – the ones with mouths to feed and reputations to uphold. The thing was, the men he really needed to catch were about some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life. Otis Strate and Jesse Duke, and Moses Davenport to a lesser degree, were the biggest and best bootleggers around. They had more tricks up their sleeves than a rodeo clown, and their cars could outrun his with their foot only halfway to the floor.

The only thing good that had ever come of going after them had been meeting Mary. She'd been running interference, cutting his car off in mid-chase with the old 'pickup-dying-in-the-road' trick. He'd gone to move her out of the way, but two hours later had still found them sitting in the middle of the road talking, and he'd completely forgotten what he was doing there in the first place.

If he thought being a revenuer was bad, he was completely unprepared for the fallout of courting a moonshiner's daughter. Several times he'd come home to his apartment at the boarding house in town to find nasty letters slid under his door letting him know just what some of the folks thought about it. Unbeknownst to her family, he and Mary had already made plans to leave at the end of the summer. He'd asked her to marry him and she'd said 'yes' on the condition that they leave the Blue Ridge Mountains forever and never look back. She'd saved back enough from her family's 'shine business for them to move west, out where there would be work for him besides being a revenuer. He couldn't wait for the summer to end.

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><p>The warm glow of the kitchen light shone through the farmhouse windows as Otis Strate pulled the car up in front. Luke and Daisy sat on the steps along with their Aunt Lavinia who was holding Bo on her lap. Enos barely had time to climb out of the car before Daisy hopped up and bounded over to him.<p>

"Hey, come on, Enos," she said, grabbing his hand, "you gotta come see what I found!"

"Daisy," her aunt called, "don't go runnin' off too far. It's getting' dark an' it'll be high time for you kids t' be in bed before long."

"Yes ma'am," said Daisy, pulling Enos after her around the side of the house. She knelt down beside the wall and picked up a burlap bag, tied at the top.

"What'cha got?" he asked.

She just giggled and untied the bag. "Stick your hand in," she told him.

"Daisy, if you think I'm gonna trust t' stick my hand in somethin' _you_ tell me to, you're plum crazy."

"Fine, here..." she stuck her hand into the bag and pulled out the largest bull-frog Enos had ever seen. "Pretty cool, huh? Found him over by th' fence on th' south 40."

Enos took the frog from her and held it up, looking it over. "He's a nice lookin' one. What'cha gonna do with him? Ya' know Aunt Lavinia ain't gonna let you keep him."

"I thought Luke might wanna see him," she said, innocently.

Enos grinned. "In th' bag or his pillow?"

They shared a look and ran back around the house and past her aunt and Luke, nearly knocking him over.

"Hey! You two cut it out," he yelled, as the screen door slammed behind them. "An' stay outta my stuff!"

"Here, here, stick him in," giggled Daisy, holding open Luke's pillowcase.

"Not like that. Here, lay it down, I don't wanna squish 'im." She lay the pillow back down on the bed and Enos stuck the frog at the far end, past the pillow. "Hand me th' string." He tied up the end with the string from the burlap bag to keep the frog from escaping.

Laughing, they made their way back through the house and out to the porch where Aunt Lavinia eyed them suspiciously.

"What are you two up to?"

Daisy threw her arms around her aunt and hugged her. "Aunt Lavinia, don't ya' trust us?"

Lavinia laughed. "You, yes. Enos, yes. You an' him together...no, not so much, Sweetie." She kissed her niece on the cheek and stood up. "Come on y'all, it's getting' bed time. Luke, would you help Bo?"

"Yes'm," he said, taking the little boy's hand. "Come on, champ."

"Enos, I reckon you can take th' guest room since we moved Bo into Luke's room, but mind you make th' bed in th' mornin', dear."

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

They'd all settled down for the night when they heard a 'yelp' from the boys' room. "Aunt Lavinia...!"

Lavinia came back down the hallway and peeked her head in the door. "What's wrong, Luke?"

"They put a frog in my pillow!" Giggling could be heard coming from Daisy's room off the other side of the house. Enos had enough sense to keep quiet.

"Daisy! Enos!" called Aunt Lavinia. "You two best get out here right now on th' double-quick!"

The two mischief makers slowly straggled out of their respective rooms to stand before the woman. "Daisy Duke, you wipe that smile off your face right this minute. Enos Strate, you're about a short stick away from stayin' with your ma' next run. Both of y'all are grounded t'morrow to th' kitchen. I'm sure I can find somethin' for ya' t' put your talents to other than puttin' frogs in people's beds."

"Yes ma'am."

"Yes, Aunt Lavinia."

"Alright, now back t' bed with ya'."

She watched the two children go back into their rooms before laughing quietly to herself. "Luke go an' throw th' poor thing outside, please."

"Huh uh! I ain't pickin' that up!"

"Oh for goodness sakes, Luke, it's just a frog." Lavinia came over to Luke's bed, picked it up, and left the room. "Poor thing," she told it, "you are a handsome bugger, though." She let it go by the barn and went back inside.

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><p>The rest of the week passed as any other for Enos. He'd do his chores as fast as he could in the morning so he'd be free the rest of the day. Unlike most kids, he hated summers – there was no school to take him away from home, and his pa' was cookin' up at their still. He wasn't allowed to go with him – cooking moonshine was dangerous business and every family knew someone who'd been killed doing it. All it took was a tiny crack or leak around one of the rivets on the thump keg or any one of a hundred other problems and there'd be a hole in the ground instead of a still and another marker in the graveyard.<p>

Today was a little different. It was raining. Enos sat on the porch, drinking in the smell of the wet earth as the heavy drops drenched the parched, dry grass. His fishing pole and tackle sat next to him, and as soon as the rain tapered off he planned to go down to the river and see if he could catch anything. The fish should be biting good after the rain, and if he had to eat another supper of salt pork...

Eventually the downpour ceased and he ran inside to find his father. He sat at the table, checking his books and orders using some sort of math that made Enos' head swim.

"Hey pa', the rain stopped. Can I go fishin' now?"

Otis looked up from his papers and eyed his son warily. "I s'pose, but you stay away from th' river. It's libel t' be floodin' after the rains last night and this mornin'. I'd like t' keep you around for awhile instead of fishin' your carcass outta th' Chattahoochee."

"Yes sir," said Enos, grudgingly.

"Sorry son. I'm sure th' fishin's just fine in Miller's pond."

Enos wasn't as confident. "Alright." He trudged back out to the porch, grabbed his pole and gear, and started off down the road towards the pond.

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><p>Enos was right...three hours later he had nothing to show for his time at the pond but a case of poison ivy when his lure got caught in a snag and he fell into a patch when the line snapped. It was a shame to have to waste such a prime fishing day on muddy ol' Miller's Pond. Maybe if he just took a <em>peek<em> at the river, he thought. If it looked fine, his pa' wouldn't have anything to worry about. 'Sides, hadn't he said to stay away from the _Chattahoochee? _This river was just an offshoot...the real Chattahoochee didn't start for another 50 miles to the south. Convinced his father would never know the difference anyway, Enos left the pond and started back towards the trail that would lead down to the river.

He could hear it before he could see it - a low, thundering, roar that seemed to resonate through the air. He came over the hill and saw that his father had been right. The river had crested far above it's normal banks and the water that usually flowed steadily under the old L&N Railroad bridge now crashed and beat against the trestle like a living, breathing, monster. But...if he strung his line out long, he wouldn't have to get close to the bank. He took off his lure and rigged a fly, pulled out his line, and flung it expertly into the midst of the swirling muddy waters by the bridge.

It wasn't ten minutes before he'd gotten a decent sized trout. He'd reeled it in and hooked it on his stringer before he noticed he wasn't alone. Startled, he took a step back from the man who approached him because, even though he recognized him as the revenuer, John Mayfield, something seemed...off. In fact, he looked like he just might of taken a swim in th' river. His clothes were muddy and disheveled, and as the man staggered toward Enos, he realized he was drunk.

"Hey!" said the man. "I know you...you're O..Oditis St...trates' son, ain't ya', boy?"

"Y...yes, sir," said Enos, taking another step back.

"Y'ain't seen Mary, have ya'? I can't find her anywhere's..."

"N..no, s...sir. I ain't seen her." Enos had had enough of the freakish man with vacant eyes. Grabbing his pole, he took off running as fast as he could, all the way back home.

Otis was still sitting at the table when Enos slammed the door open and shut it behind him. His father was about to remind him not to bang the door, but when he turned around and saw the expression on the boy's face, he thought something more important than slamming doors must be going on. Enos's eyes were wide with fright, his skin pale and ashen.

"Son? What's wrong?"

Enos found himself in a tight spot. If he told his pa' about Mr. Mayfield wandering around drunk at the river, his dad would know where he'd been. He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself he was home and safe and had nothing to worry about. "Huh? Oh...nothin', Pa'. I just got spooked comin' down th' trail."

His Pa' looked unconvinced, but let the explanation pass for the time being. "You catch that in th' pond?" He motioned to the trout Enos had completely forgotten about catching.

"Oh...yeah...in th' pond." Enos felt his face burn, adding another lie onto the one he'd already told.

"Well, ya' best go an' clean it 'fore yer ma' sees it."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>Despite his appetite for fish earlier that day, the procuring of it had put him off the idea and Enos merely picked at his portion of trout at supper.<p>

"Thought you were in th' mood for fish, Enos," said his pa'.

Enos shrugged. "I dunno, pa', guess I'm just not real hungry."

"Well..."

A frantic beating at the front door cut short whatever his father was about to say. His parents shared an apprehensive look across the table before Otis put his napkin down on the table and went to answer it.

"Enos," said his ma', "get in th' cellar."

"But ma'!"

"Don't you talk back t' me! Now git!"

Enos scooted his chair back from the table and opened up the trap door in the floor of the kitchen that led down into the basement of the house, shutting it behind him. He made his way down the rickety ladder and ran over to the spot underneath the living room. Pulling an old chair over, he climbed on top and peered through the floorboards.

The knocking didn't cease until his pa' opened the door, and a woman ran in. Enos recognized her as Swamp Molly. She was one of the few female bootleggers in the county, taking over where her deceased husband had left off, even bringing her toddler with her on occasion to put off the law.

"Lord a-mercy, Molly!" said Otis, "What in tarnation's th' matter?"

The woman ignored Enos' pa' and went straight to his ma', catching her breath a moment before speaking. "Agnes...Agnes, have ya' seen yer sister today?"

"I ain't seen Minnie in a while, Molly. She's got her hands full with th' twins, I reckon."

"No, girl...yer other sister! Have ya' seen _Mary_?" Her voice took on a hectic edge that sent chills down Enos' spine. "Oh _Lord_...please tell me you've seen Mary!"

"Not for a couple days," Agnes answered. "Why...what's happened?"

"I's...I's up t' her house. Just a while ago," the woman cried. "She ain't there, an' it...it..."

"Molly, slow down," said Otis, "what's wrong?"

"There's blood ever'where, an' she ain't there!"

For a second, there was a horrible silence as her words settled into the minds of his parents.

His ma' took Molly's arm. "Will ya' take me there, Molly?"

"I reckon." The women moved to leave.

"Molly, wait, did ya' call th' Sheriff?" asked Otis.

"I didn't, but I s'pose I will. Don't like th' idea of him pokin' his nose 'round up here, but I guess it can't be helped. We'll stop by my place first an' make th' call."

"I'm mighty obliged, Molly. An' if you would, call Jesse. A few cooler heads'll be a good thing."

"Will do."

Enos felt like the world was closing in on him as he thought back to his strange encounter with Mr. Mayfield at the river.

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><p>Two hours later, Sheriff 'Butch' Harris stood in the living room of the Strate's house, talking to Enos' pa'. Word traveled like wildfire in these parts, and it hadn't been anytime before search parties were organized and sent on their way. Nothing had turned up so far. Enos's conscience was screaming at him louder than a brass band. Time and again, men would come back, having found nothing, and all he could think was - <em>the river<em>..._they oughta be searchin' th' river._

His pa' had always taught him to do the right thing, but the right thing meant he was gonna get his hide tanned for sure, and likely wouldn't be going anywhere's again 'till the cows came home. But he thought of his aunt Mary, of her pretty smile and funny stories, and of the sweets she always seemed to have stashed away just for his visits...surely she deserved th' truth from him. Heart pounding, Enos crossed the living room to stand by his pa' and the Sheriff.

"Uh... Mr. Harris...sir..."

The Sheriff turned and looked down at him and smiled sadly. "Hey there, Enos. Sorry 'bout th' ruckus today. What's on yer mind?"

"I...I...got somethin' t' say." He turned to his pa' who was watching him curiously. "Pa', I'm right sorry, an' I know I'm in trouble, but I...I..."

"Take it easy, son. Why don't ya' just say what's important first, an' we'll talk about th' rest later."

"Yes, sir." He turned back to the Sheriff. "I saw Mr. Mayfield down by th' river today. He looked plum awful, an' he was askin' me if I'd seen Mary...and...an' he'd been drinkin', sir."

Butch knelt down in front of Enos. "That's a mighty brave thing ya' did, son, tellin' me about it. Thank you." He stood back up and looked at Otis. "We got no one checkin' that close, I'll go out an' have a look."

Otis nodded at him and the Sheriff turned and left. "Enos," his pa' began, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I'm proud of you for bein' brave enough t' tell th' truth. You did th' right thing, but you know there's consequences for disobeyin' me an' lying about it."

Enos hung his head. "I know, pa'. I'm sorry."

"Go an' get your fishin' pole an' put it on my bed."

"Yes, sir." He grabbed his pole dismally from beside the front door.

"And Enos?"

He turned back to his father. "Yeah, pa'?"

"Son, there ain't no trout in Miller's pond."

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><p>It was nearly dark when the Sheriff returned, followed by one of his two deputies, Rosco Coltrane. Otis met them on the steps, while Enos pressed his nose to the screen door.<p>

"Rosco," greeted Otis to the deputy. "Butch, ya' got yer help, I s'pect that means I ain't gonna like what you found."

Butch gave him a long look. "I reckon not," he said. "We found her, Otis. Washed up down th' river, an' that's all I'm gonna say with yer boy around."

His pa' turned towards the door. "Enos, go out an' make sure th' cow's put up."

Enos knew better than to argue. When he came back, Sheriff Harris was gone. Deputy Coltrane and Uncle Jesse were on the porch talking to his pa'. Enos ducked around the side of the porch to hear what was going on.

"Deputy Ledbetter's down with th' body, along with J.D. Hogg, tryin' t' hold everyone back," Rosco was telling them. "I'm gonna go on back an' help 'em get her back t' town. State Police are comin' in th' morning." He walked down the steps, off of the porch.

"Rosco," his pa' called after him, "you be careful. Folks 'round here are libel t' be on a short fuse."

"Yes sir, I understand."

Jesse waited until the deputy had gone before speaking. "So what's Butch say?"

Otis shook his head. "He's gonna go ahead an' pick up John Mayfield. Mostly for protection tonight, but Enos saw him down at th' river an' said he'd been drinkin'. Knew somethin'd scared th' tar outta th' boy when he came home today."

"They'd best h..." Jesse stopped. He peered off into the night. "What in tarnation?"

Over the hill, a myriad of lights blazed in the darkness. As they came closer, it became apparent it was a large group of people carrying torches, escorting a car moving slowly up the road. More than a little alarmed, Enos ran up onto the porch to stand by his pa' and Uncle Jesse as the car pulled up and stopped in front of the farmhouse. A man Enos had seen before, but didn't know, got out of the passenger's side as the rest of the people gathered around him.

"Where's that Sheriff an' those other buffoons that work for 'im?" the man shouted.

"He ain't here, Charlie. What d' ya' need?"

"We got th' man who did it, right here!"

Shouts of 'That's right!" and "String 'im up!" filtered through the angry crowd.

He pulled open the back door of the car and someone inside kicked a man out - bound, gagged, and bloodied, with a rope around his neck. Enos moved behind his pa', horrified, as John Mayfield struggled to escape.

"Lord Almighty..." whispered Uncle Jesse.

"What are y'all thinkin'?" his pa' yelled at the mob. "This ain't how things're done 'round here. Bring him on up here an' we'll watch him 'till th' Sheriff gets back."

"They ain't gonna do nothin' t' him!" another man shouted. "He's a damn revenuer! He's one a-theirs!"

"He ain't worth th' bullet I'd give a sick dog!" called another.

"Now you just wait one cotton pickin' minute!" started Jesse, walking towards the edge of the porch. "I ain't gonna stand by an' let you people act like y' ain't got no sense in yer heads..." He stopped as several shotguns were lowered in his direction. Otis pulled him back.

"Ever'body knows you an' Otis been hobnobbin' with this mongrel," the man said, delivering John Mayfield a kick to the gut. "We ain't interested in hearing 'bout what some stiff-shirted judge in th' city calls legal or not. Now, either you're with us or you're not, but we aim t' set things right!"

There was nothing Jesse or Otis could do. Enos stared, terrified, as the mob descended on the man, kicking him as he lay curled, helpless on the ground. His father grabbed him and pulled him around into his arms to hide his face.

"Son, don't you _ever_ forget," his pa' whispered fiercely in his ear. "This ain't justice." Enos nodded, and Otis looked over at Uncle Jesse. "Jesse, please - get my boy outta here."

"Come on, Enos, let's go." Uncle Jesse took his hand and pulled him quickly into the house and through the kitchen to the back door and into his pick up. "You hold on, son. We ain't goin' th' road."

Jesse Duke swung the truck around and headed off through the back acre and down the old railroad bed that headed east towards Chalk Hills. The branches struck and scratched at the truck as it whipped by them, and Enos was deathly afraid one would break the windshield. He stared straight ahead as the headlamps guided them slowly through the woods, startling deer whose eyes shone like jewels in the dark, reflected by the light.

Eventually they came out at Sand Creek Road and turned right, towards Mill Road and the Duke farm. Uncle Jesse pulled the truck over to the side and turned to Enos.

"I'm awful sorry ya' had t' see that back there."

Enos shook his head, tears burning in his eyes. "Uncle Jesse, it's all my fault those people were mad at him. I told th' Sheriff I'd seen him drunk at th' river an..."

"You listen t' me," Jesse told him sternly, but kindly, "all you did is said what ya' saw. There ain't _never_ wrong in tellin' th' truth. Them people - they ain't in th' right, Enos. Justice is about givin' every man – guilty or innocent, his full measure, not takin' revenge." He looked over at the boy who seemed only half paying attention and sighed. "Let's get ya' on to th' farm. You look like ya' need a good night's rest."

Uncle Jesse was wrong though, Enos _had_ been listening. And unbeknownst to him, his words about justice had started the path down which Enos Strate would travel the rest of his life.

Aunt Lavinia came out to meet them as they pulled up, already having put the kids into bed early tonight with the goings on. She tucked her arm lovingly around the boy when he got out, and looked back in through the window. Jesse motioned her around to the driver's side and whispered what had happened in her ear.

"I'm gonna go on back, see what I can do," he said.

She nodded, tears in her eyes. "You be careful, Jess," she told him. "Th' kids' are gonna need you."

The two shared a long look before Jesse nodded sadly. As he drove off, Lavinia steered Enos up the stairs.

"Come on, dear, I'll make ya' some warm milk before ya' go t' bed."

* * *

><p>As tired as he was, Enos found himself tossing and turning. The image of John Mayfield lying there in front of his porch, bloody and beaten, wouldn't leave him, and in his mind the man's eyes focused on himself, watching him as he hid . He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the light knock on the door and the creak of it opening.<p>

"Enos," whispered Daisy, "Enos, are you asleep?"

"No."

It was pitch black in the room, but he heard the floorboards as she moved over towards the bed. "I'm scared, Enos," she said. "Can I stay in here with you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he told her, grateful for her company. He scooted over to the other side of the bed to make room as she settled in.

"I heard Uncle Jesse talkin' t' Aunt Lavinia about somethin' happened to your aunt."

"Can I tell ya' about it tomorrow, Daisy? I'm awful tired."

"Alright," she sighed, disappointed. "'Night, Enos."

"'Night, Daisy."

Lavinia found them in the morning, nestled together. She left them be. There was no harm in it at this age, and the innocence of childhood would be past them in the blink of an eye. She only regretted that she wouldn't be there to see what the future would bring for the two.

* * *

><p>It was spring again in the Georgian hills, but for everyone who had known and loved Lavinia Duke, the sun seemed duller and the flowers not half as fair the day they lowered her into the cold ground of Pine Ridge Cemetery. Four children, who's lives had been touched by her, stood together – joined forever in the loss of the woman who'd been more of a mother to each than their own. And a man who had watched his wife slowly fade away with the passing of the old year, found himself with a broken heart and three young children looking to him to raise them. Jesse Duke had never been so scared in all his life.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: _This series is also the backstory for the novella "Beneath a Hazzard Moon" and "Halls of Stone and Iron".  
><em>  
><em>


	2. Meet the Beaudrys

_A/N: There is a Visual Guide to The Story of Us now, see the link on my profile.  
><em>

Part II: A chance encounter with the Beaudrys leaves Enos and Daisy struggling to find their way back home.

* * *

><p>"<em>In Hazzard, we have Enos' law...<br>If anything can go wrong, he'll be right  
>smack dab in the middle of it.<br>Then there's Daisy's law, which can usually  
>be depended on to veto Enos' law."<br>_-Waylon Jennings  
>Season 2, Episode 16, Treasure of Hazzard County<p>

* * *

><p>Mid-April, 1965<p>

* * *

><p>The spring thaw meant the beginning of moon-shining season in the Blue Ridge mountains, and families who had nothing else to rely on cranked up their stills again, looking forward to finally having some cash in their pockets after the dry winter season.<p>

Though an average still could put out several hundred gallons of whiskey, most families were limited by what they could buy in dry ingredients. A bushel of corn and 40 pounds of sugar would only yield about six gallons of decent quality whiskey, but when the price of a bushel of corn went for $1.25 and a gallon of 'shine fetched $10, there wasn't much question about what farmers were using their corn for. In fact, there wasn't an industry in the hills that wasn't influenced in some way by the 'shine trade. Mr. Rhuebottom sold more sugar than most general stores ten times its size in the larger cities, and Dewey Stoval, who owned a hardware store up in Choctaw, sold more copper tubing than he did two by fours.

In order to sell their shine at a decent profit, locals needed someone to deliver it out of the backwoods of Hazzard and into the big cities – and that's where the ridge-runners came in. Dozens of people ran moonshine, but most weren't very good at it. Being a bootlegger took more than a sense of daring and lust for adventure, and the ones who had what it took were the one's who _didn't _set around drinking their profits.

Like moon-shining itself, bootlegging was a family affair, and by the time boys were old enough to drive, they'd already learned most of what there was to know by tagging along with the older folks. It went without saying that the sons would follow in their father's footsteps, and it was this fact that first set Enos Strate apart from the world he'd been born into. His father, Otis, had absolutely refused to show his son how to make moonshine, vowing that the Strates' ridge-running, moon-shining, and law-evading days would end with himself.

After Lavinia Duke's passing two years prior, the lives of those she'd left behind slowly but surely settled into the unwelcome - but unavoidable, changes her loss had brought. With it, an unspoken sort of rivalry had begun to simmer between Otis' son, Enos, and Luke Duke, who was only a few months older. Luke, now almost fourteen, had taken it upon himself as the eldest to look after the best interests - in his opinion at least, of his younger cousins Bo, 6, and Daisy, 11. Bo was young enough not to mind, but Daisy, head-strong as ever, balked at being lorded over by Luke, a boy only two years older than herself and for that matter only five months older than her best friend.

Otis reckoned Enos spent just as much time watching out for Daisy as Luke did, though she didn't seem to mind his attention so much as she did her cousin's. He was infinity more subtle about it than Luke, and Otis figured Daisy was used to his son's sometimes quirky ways considering how long those two had been putting gray hairs on his and Jesse's heads with the scrapes they somehow always managed to get into.

Enos had changed subtly, too, drawing away from the others somewhat while at the same time the bond between him and Daisy had only grown stronger. Therein was where his father saw a conflict that he wasn't sure anyone else had taken the time to notice yet, and that he would bide his time a few more years before mentioning. Enos' closeness with Daisy rankled Luke, who saw it as _his_ responsibility to watch over the girl – not Enos'. He'd heard the not so kind taunts the young Duke had levied at his son about having to stay home like a mama's boy while_ he_ was allowed to tag along with his Uncle Jesse on runs and up to their still sites.

Determined not to undermine his son's reputation completely, Otis had grudgingly allowed Enos to go with him down the back-roads to collect orders for the first runs of the year after he'd turned twelve the previous spring. Despite his mother being horrified by the idea of her only child wandering around with his father visiting distilleries, Enos couldn't have been happier, and Otis figured it wouldn't hurt for him to learn first hand just why he wanted him to get out of the hills someday.

Enos had turned out to be a natural when it came to finding his way through the maze of nameless roads in rural Hazzard County, and after only two months of Saturdays the previous year, he'd known his way to most of the still sites and hidden shanties as well as anyone. He'd be a ace bootlegger, Otis thought ruefully. Of course, he wasn't going to learn anything if he couldn't get himself out of bed.

"Enos," he called, knocking on his door for the third time that morning, "I ain't wakin' y' up again. Either you're comin' or y'ain't."

Enos' eyes shot open. He hadn't meant to fall asleep again – after all, it wasn't everyday he got to go to work with his father. "Wait, Pa'! I'm comin', honest I am."

He threw the quilt off of himself, nearly whacking his head on the bedpost as he rolled out of bed and grabbed his clothes. Today his pa' was taking the first run orders of the season, and Enos didn't know – or care, how he'd smoothed things over with his ma', but this year she hadn't said a word against him going along. He didn't know what the big deal was in the first place, it wasn't as if anyone would be cookin' shine right now – not until they'd gotten their money from their first run to buy more supplies.

Now dressed, Enos grabbed his shotgun from where it rested against his dresser, checked the safety, and opened the door. The hallway was empty. He passed through the small living area and into the kitchen where his mother was washing dishes.

"Bye, ma'," he called, running out the door before she could think of a reason not to let him go.

The passenger side door of the Hornet squeaked as he pulled it open and hopped up onto the front bench seat, grinning at his dad. "Where're we goin' first?"

"Well, I reckon we oughta check in on Bessie Johnson since she lost Petey and little Ruth last fall, and then we'll head on over to Henstep's." He chuckled at Enos' groan. "Ain't he got a girl 'bout your age?"

"Who, Amy?" asked Enos, unamused. "Nah, she's twelve. Gosh pa', do we gotta go over there? She's awful...clingy."

Otis stifled a laugh. Amy had a crush on Enos, though he didn't think his son had noticed it in that light yet. "Just mind yer manners. She's a nice enough girl."

"Yes, pa'," he muttered.

Amy McCullum was the antithesis of Daisy Duke – she had long blond hair in perfect ringlets, wore dresses everyday, and smelled vaguely like some sort of fruit. It was enough to make him ill, and why she had to drag him around with her every time they visited was beyond him.

"I've got a run t' make later this evenin', so I'll drop ya' at th' farm before I take off." He looked over at Enos, a stern expression on his face. "And mind you...if I hear about you causin' trouble, you're gonna stay home with yer ma' for a month of runs, ya' hear?"

Enos crossed his arms and scowled. "Ya' know pa', it's not like I mean t' get into scrapes. They just seem t' sort of find me."

* * *

><p>It was a quarter to nine when they pulled up at the old Johnson place. Enos remembered Peter, known to most as "Petey", Johnson from their visits the previous spring. He'd been quite a character, always with a quick joke and a twinkle in his eye, but the last fall the entire family had suddenly taken ill and a week later Petey was gone as well as his two year old daughter, Ruth, leaving his wife and four young children behind to shift for themselves. Some government environmental people had come to poke around afterwards and had found some sort of bacteria in their well water, dumped some bleach in, and left.<p>

The change in the property itself was the first difference Enos noticed. Petey had always prided himself on his garden and every spring, if he wasn't making moonshine, he could be found hoeing, weeding, planting, or watering. He was generous to a fault with the fruits of his labors, and many times his pa' had come home with a box of vegetables courtesy of the man. Now his patch stood empty and untilled with no hands available to work it, and the ghosts of last year's plants stood whithered and dead. Enos found it hard to pull his eyes away from them, thinking that when they'd been lush and living, so too had been Petey and little Ruth.

As he and his father left the car, Mrs. Johnson came out on the porch to meet them, She looked twenty years older than he'd remembered, and even at thirteen he knew he couldn't imagine how hard the last winter must have been on her.

She waited patiently while Otis climbed the steps up to where she stood, Enos staying back respectfully several paces. The woman looked as though she might cry.

"Otis, I'm afraid I ain't got nothin' for ya' this year."

His pa' shook his head. "I didn't reckon you did, Bess. That ain't what I'm here for. How're you doin'...an' I mean _really_."

"Well," she sighed, "we usually counted on th' shine money in th' spring, but we had a little put away. Ain't enough t' do much on, but I've got a sister up in Virginia whose asked us t' move up, an' I'm gonna take her up on it. I stay here with th' mortgage pilin' up, th' state's gonna come for th' kids an' that ain't somethin' I'm gonna let happen."

"I can understand, completely," he said, kindly. " You do what you need t' do. Listen, Agnes and me just want you t' know that if you need anything at all, you tell us. An' I ain't sayin' that t' be polite. I mean it. Your family's been good t' ours in rough years, an' our memories ain't short."

Bessie nodded. "I sure do 'preciate it. I just hope th' folks up in Virginny are as good as y'all are."

His father took her hand in his and Enos saw him press something into it. "Good luck t' you."

"No, Otis," she said. "I can't take this from ya'. You need th' money just as much as we do."

"Already done and forgotten," he replied, holding his hands back from her. "Come on by before you an th' kids take off. Be nice t' see you one last time."

She smiled and put her hand gently against the side of his face. "We will, I promise. You're too good t' people, Otis, you know that?"

Otis Strate blushed faintly. "We'll see ya', Bess," he said as he turned and headed back down the steps.

Enos followed him to the car, proud to be his dad's son.

True to his father's word, the next place they stopped was Henstep McCullum's. Enos rolled his eyes as Amy grinned at him from the porch and ran down to where he stood by the car.

"Hey Enos," she said, taking his hand. "Come on inside, me an' ma' just opened up a jar of mulberry preserves, an' I got a plate all set for you."

"Alright, I'm comin'," he sighed. At least he was getting fed, though Mrs. McCullum's mulberry preserves had about as much flavor as a wet dishrag in his opinion. He tried in vain to remove his hand from Amy's sweaty grasp, but she just squeezed tighter and dragged him into the kitchen.

"Now, you just set down there, an' I'll feed ya' right proper."

He groaned to himself and took a seat at the table as she fixed him two pieces of bread and jam and then proceeded to sit down to watch him eat it. Enos gingerly took a bite and found that it actually wasn't half bad and told Amy so.

"Oh, yeah. Ma' forgot th' sugar in last year's batch. Sorry 'bout that," she giggled.

Enos ate slowly, hoping if he took long enough Amy wouldn't have time to drag him off somewhere else. His plan worked perfectly and he was only halfway through the second piece when he heard his pa' calling him from outside. Grabbing the remainder off the plate, he stood up from the table and turned to make his way outside.

"Thanks for th' snack, Amy. It was mighty kind of ya'," he said, remembering his pa's admonition to mind his manners.

The girl blushed. "Oh, it was nothin', Enos. I'll give ya' some more next time ya' come up."

Enos went outside where his pa' was still talking to Henstep.

"...libel t' be payin' ya' a visit if they can't find anyone else t' run their swill," Henstep was saying.

Otis shook his head. "If they think I'm gonna run that poison they bottle up an' call 'shine, they can just think again. Jesse's already been into it with 'em, I reckon. Tried t' make off with _his_ still last fall. Don't know what Joe thinks he's gonna do with a still anyways if he's just gonna make th' same ol' rotgut he's always made."

"Yeah, well, you just be on th' lookout's all I'm sayin'. Them Beaudrys ain't known for bein' polite company."

"I'm mighty obliged for th' warnin', Henstep. I'll let everyone know." He turned to Enos. "Ready t' go?"

"Yes sir," Enos said, relieved.

He waited until his father had pulled out of the McCullum's drive before talking. "Pa', what was Mr. McCullum talkin' about th' Beaudrys for?" He'd had the displeasure of running across Joe Beaudry and his two son's, Milo and Sledge, the previous spring while in town with his pa'.

"I reckon they're wandering around th' hills again, tryin' t' steal themselves a still. Henstep said Amos Petersdorf ran 'em off of his property last week."

"Do they live in Hazzard? I ain't never seen 'em 'cept for last spring."

"No, th' Beaudrys got 'em a shack somewhere up in Southern Tennessee. They spend most of their time travelin' around though, tryin' t' sell their hooch t' people who don't know 'em for who they are." His father looked in the rear-view mirror and frowned. "Fasten your seatbelt, Enos."

"Huh? What for?"

"Just do as I say, I'm gonna have t' loose Deputy Ledbetter 'fore I drop ya' at th' farm."

"Um, okay Pa'."

Enos had no sooner fastened the lap belt across him than he heard the siren of the police cruiser come on behind them, and Otis Strate put his foot to the floor, knocking him backwards into the seat. For Enos, who had never seen his father drive above the speed limit, it was an experience he would never forget – nor would he ever forget the way his pa's eyes lit up as he skillfully swung the car around the corners, one step ahead of the deputy. On and on, faster and faster they went until the mailboxes and trees were nothing but a blur and a tornado of dust erupted behind them.

Hanging on for dear life, the exhilaration of flying down the dirt roads rushing through his veins, Enos knew without a doubt he was in love...with _speed_. It suddenly occurred to him that this was what his pa' and Uncle Jesse _did_. This was the life of a _ridge-runner_, and for the first time he felt a stab of jealous envy at Luke, and Bo, and Cooter, and all the other boys who would be allowed to carry on the traditions that he himself was banned from learning.

"Here's where we loose ol' John Ledbetter," said his pa'.

Ahead was a curve and beyond that was Parson's Pond. The Hudson's custom suspension held the car firmly to the road as he zoomed around the corner, but the deputy's car missed the turn and flew out over the bend to land smack dab in the middle of the pond. His pa' waited until the deputy surfaced before chuckling and driving off.

"Wow, pa'! I didn't know you was haulin'," said Enos, stunned.

His father turned to him, amused. "I ain't haulin' nothing, Enos. You know I wouldn't do that when you're with me."

"But...but then why did ya' run from th' cop?"

Otis Strate just laughed. "'Cause if I only tried t' get away from him when I was on a run, he'd know when t' chase me an' when not to. 'Sides, John Ledbetter's about the crookedest cop Hazzard's ever seen. He's libel t' find somethin' t' take me in for if I was drivin' t' church on Sunday ten under th' speed limit. He mean's t' be Sheriff one day, an' he's libel t' get there one way or another, like as not."

"Pa'...will ya' teach me t' drive like that?"

His father looked at him thoughtfully. There were times when not passing on what he knew to his son was nearly as hard for him as it was for Enos, but there were other reasons to be a skillful driver other than running moonshine. "You'll be old enough t' drive in th' dirt-track races when you're fifteen. I s'pose it wouldn't hurt t' teach you a few things before then," he allowed. "But not today. I'm late as it is."

Enos made up his mind right then and there to be the best student anyone had ever seen...at least where driving was concerned.

* * *

><p>Daisy sat on the porch steps, idly stripping the bark from a twig as she waited impatiently for Enos and his dad to show up, throwing glances up the road every now and again. Her Uncle Jesse rested in the rocking chair behind her, his shotgun against the house beside him.<p>

"You ever heard th' sayin' 'a watched pot never boils'?" he teased her.

She turned around and frowned. "They're late."

Jesse ignored the girl's complaint. "It's a nice day. Why don't y'all go on down to th' pond today? See if you can't rustle up some supper for later."

"I guess so, Uncle Jesse." She broke the twig into bits and tossed them out into the yard. "though I don't see why Luke's gotta stay with us. We ain't babies no more, an' Enos is nearly as old as he is."

Her uncle chuckled. "Well, now, I reckon that's true enough. An' if'n you two could keep your noses outta trouble for a long enough spell, I'll think about it."

"We haven't gotten in a scrape for at least a few weeks," she grumbled.

He stopped the rocking chair and peered down at her, his voice suddenly serious. "Don't think I don't know that you two've been cuttin' class again," he told her. "We've had an awful lot of fish dinners lately."

It was no secret that the two snuck off to go fishing regularly instead of going back to class during their lunch break. It also didn't help matters that the Hazzard School District didn't consider taking attendance of much importance, especially not with so many children out this time of year helping their families with spring planting.

Daisy knew better than to deny it, though she wasn't about to tell her uncle the real reason for cutting out. Spring was a hard time at school for children of ridge-runners as they once again became the butt of the other's taunts and jokes. It never seemed to bother Enos, but she couldn't stand it. If she told him more often than not, they left school because Enos was dragging her off from some fight she was about to get herself into, he'd probably show up at school to talk to somebody and that would just make everything worse.

Her eyes caught the flash of the sun off chrome in the distance, and she grinned as Otis Strate's car turned down the drive. The moment it stopped, Enos hopped out, and Daisy could tell just by his face that he had a story to tell her.

"What happened?" she asked as he came over to her and they walked off together.

He shot her a grin, but shook his head. "I'll tell ya' later. So what're we doin'?"

"Uncle Jesse says t' go down to th' pond. We gotta bring Luke, though."

Enos shrugged. "So? That ain't no big deal." Luke coming with them meant he didn't get to go with his Uncle Jesse on a run and for some reason Enos found that slightly amusing. "Where is he?"

"Inside somewheres."

They ran up the steps into the kitchen where Bo sat at the table trying to fix his slingshot. He looked up and smiled at them. "Hey, Enos!"

"Hey there, Bo. Whatcha doin'?"

"My slingshot got busted." The six year old's hands were not quite nimble enough to thread the elastic strap back through the hole in the frame.

"Here, let me have a look at it," said Enos.

The boy handed it to him. "Say, Enos, Luke's right angry with you."

"Nothin' new 'bout that, kiddo," Enos replied, unconcerned. He retied the sling's strap and handed it back to Bo. "Wanna go fishin'?"

"Boy, do I ever!"

* * *

><p>The four of them made their way down the road towards Hazzard Pond, Luke trudging sourly along behind the others. When they finally got to the pond, Enos scooped up a handful of pebbles from the bank, handing half of them to Daisy in an unspoken ritual they'd followed since either could remember. Both of them headed towards the dock to toss them into the water, but Luke caught Daisy's arm and pulled her back.<p>

"You heard what Uncle Jesse said," he told her. "No trouble or you're gonna get it."

"Luke Duke, you ain't in charge of me!" she shouted, ripping her arm out of his grasp.

"I am while Uncle Jesse ain't here, an' you know it."

"Why don't ya' leave her alone, Luke," said Enos. "We ain't doin' nothin' but fishin'."

Instead Luke turned on Enos. "And _you_!" He pointed his finger at him. "You're th' whole reason I'm here babysittin' instead of helpin' today. If you'd act your age instead of galavantin' around with _her_ stirrin' up trouble or fallin' in holes, I wouldn't have t' be here."

"Oh shut up, Luke," said Daisy. "Uncle Jesse just don't want a whiny know-it-all taggin' along. Come on, Enos." She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from Luke, towards the dock.

After two hours of nothing but a couple throwbacks, their spirit for fishing was quite a bit dampened. Bo had found a shady place and curled up for a nap, and Luke watched with increasing wariness as the 'terrible twosome', as he thought of Daisy and Enos, sat on the dock throwing him occasional glances and whispering between themselves.

"If y'all are thinkin' of somethin' t' stir up trouble," he shouted at them. "you can just forget it. We're goin' back home." He went over and shook Bo, waking him up.

"Fine," called Daisy. "We're going th' back way."

"Whatever. Just don't whine t' me if ya' get lost," he answered, as he and Bo made their way up the bank towards the road.

"Big bully," she muttered.

"He's just tryin' t' look out for ya' is all," Enos assured her. "Come on, I know th' way."

The back way led them down an old railroad bed that cut through the woods, already thick with the new spring foliage. Enos found the trail quickly and they set off towards the back of the Duke property. They'd only gone about a quarter mile when they came across an old, dirty pickup truck blocking the way, seemingly abandoned.

Enos' heart skipped a beat, and he pulled Daisy off the trail and behind a large tree.

"I know that truck," he told her. "It belongs t' them Beaudrys my pa' was talkin' about. We saw it in town last spring, an' Mr. McCullum said they was in Hazzard."

"Who are th' Beaudrys?"

"I don't rightly know much about 'em other than what I heard, but they tried stealin' Uncle Jesse's still last fall."

In the back half of the truck bed was something irregular shaped and large, covered with a tarp which was lashed to the rails to keep it in place.

"Stay here, I'm gonna check it out."

He moved out from behind the tree and crept quietly to the truck and climbed up into the bed. The tarp was still loose with plenty of room underneath and only tied to the truck at the corner grommets. Enos ducked under it. A mass of copper tubing, barrels, and other metal objects greeted him, and he realized he was looking at someone's still that the Beaudrys had just made off with. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the tarp moved, and Daisy crawled in beside him.

"Ding-dang it, Daisy! Don't you ever listen? I said t' stay there."

"What? An' let you have all th' fun? Not on your life. So..."

Enos clapped his hand over her mouth. "Shh..."

The sound of voices could now be heard, coming closer to the truck. Enos pulled Daisy with him further under the tarp and against the back of the truck bed.

"We'd best be getting' outta here," a gruff voice said. "We don't wanna take a chance on loosin' this beauty. Come on... Milo, put down that dead 'possum!"

Both truck doors opened and then shut and the engine started. Daisy and Enos clung to the edge of the truck as the load shifted and bounced on the uneven road.

"Where do ya' think they're goin'?" asked Daisy.

"I don't know. Maybe they'll stop back in town."

Daisy moved forward and pulled up the edge of the tarp. "Maybe we can just jump off."

"We're goin' too fast for that. Don't worry, they'll have t' stop in a minute when they get t' Shelby Road."

The truck exited the woods at such a rate, Daisy and Enos were forced to hold onto the still to keep it from falling on them. On and on they drove with Enos getting more and more worried as to where they were going to end up. His hopes of them stopping had been dashed as Joe Beaudry sped through every crossroad he came to. Eventually they left the hills Enos was familiar with, traveling further north up into the mountains that he'd only seen on the distant horizon.

Daisy, for once was truly worried. Out of all the trouble they'd ever gotten into, this undoubtedly was the worst thing that had ever happened...and it wasn't even their fault. The longer they drove, the more nervous she became. She huddled against the back of the truck, trying to keep herself from crying. "Enos, what're we gonna do?" she asked, finally.

He'd been watching the roads from the front of the tarp, but looked back at her, caught off guard by the tone in the voice of the girl he'd never known of to be afraid of anything. Enos moved back to sit beside her. "Don't worry, Daisy," he said said, more confident than he felt, "we'll get back home just fine."

Hours seemed to pass before the truck finally pulled off the highway, turning down dirt roads not so dissimilar from those of Hazzard County.

"Let's move to the front," said Enos. "When they stop, make a run for it."

They crawled out from under the tarp and towards the end of the truck bed, unaware that the Beaudrys could see them in the side mirrors. As they neared a ramshackle house on top of a ridge in a clearing, the truck suddenly stopped, slamming Daisy and Enos into each other and knocking both of them off the end. The Beaudrys surrounded them before they had a chance to pick themselves up.

"Well, well...what d' we have here?" asked Joe Beaudry, hauling Enos up from the ground by the collar of his shirt. "Some stowaways, I reckon."

Enos fought to get free, but the older man held him fast. Milo Beaudry, the youngest of Joe's two sons - big as a horse, but roughly the same age as Enos, grabbed Daisy around the waist.

"Looky what I caught, Pa'!" he shouted, daftly. "Can I keep her? Can I Pa'? Can I?"

"You let her go!" shouted Enos. He managed to squirm out of Pa' Beaudry's grasp and ran towards Milo and Daisy, but Milo shoved her towards his older brother, Sledge, and Enos found himself connecting with the the boy's fist instead. His world turned black as he fell to the ground.

"Enos!" screamed Daisy, trying her best to get at Milo.

"Shut up, gal," said Joe, "or I'll drop him off th' edge of th' ravine instead of bringin' him with us." He motioned to his sons. "Bring her on up here, Sledge. Milo, drag that boy on up, too."

* * *

><p>Enos awoke to a pail of cold water being thrown over him and found himself next to Daisy, tied up and sitting in a couple of rickety chairs.<p>

"Enos," she said, "are you alright?"

He shook his head to clear it and looked around. They were in a living area of sorts, though the walls were crowded with traps, hooks, and other devices so that the place seemed more like a tool shed than a home. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace with some sort of rodent looking critter roasting over it on a spit.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Enough jawin', you two," said Joe. "Who are ya', an' where'd you come from?"

"Don't tell him your name," Enos told her quickly, earning him a slap across the face.

"Listen you big lugs," Daisy yelled, "when our families find us, you're gonna wish you'd never set foot in Hazzard County!"

"Ain't nobody gonna find ya'," said Sledge. "Th' revenuers ain't even found us in three years."

Joe Beaudry didn't seem to hear Daisy. His thoughts were on what the boy had said. Why wouldn't he want t' tell them their names? "Boys, what'd that gal call him?"

"Uh...Enos, Pa'," answered Sledge.

"Enos...gosh but that sure does ring a bell." He grabbed Enos by the shirt. "Who d' you belong to, boy? Who's yer pa'?"

Enos just stared back at him, silently defiant, but his eyes gave him away. They were the spitting image of his father's.

"Oh ho," laughed Joe, "I'd recognize that look anywheres. You're Otis Strate's boy, ain't ya'?" Enos didn't answer and the man turned to Sledge. "You can just toss that gal over the side of th' mountain."

"No!" shouted Enos.

Pa' Beaudry gave him a rough shake. "I don't need _her_," he said, "so if you wanna see yer pretty little girlfriend again, you're gonna answer my question. What's yer name?"

"Enos Strate," he replied through clenched teeth.

The older man laughed wildly and slapped his knee. "You hear that, boys? Not only did we score ourselves a still today, but we got th' son of th' best bootlegger around."

"My pa' ain't got no money for a ransom."

"I ain't lookin' fer money, boy. Yer pa's gonna run my 'shine over th' mountains." He stood up. "Take 'em out an' tie 'em to th' porch."

Enos and Daisy found themselves hauled out of the chairs, hands still tied behind their backs, and led out the door. Milo and Sledge secured them each to a separate post holding up the porch and left them to go back inside.

They struggled against their bindings, but as dimwitted as the Beaudry boys looked, they did tie good knots. Enos eventually gave up and leaned his head back against the post, trying to think of another way out of their mess.

"I'm so sorry, Enos," said Daisy.

He looked at her, confused. "For what? Shucks, Daisy, I'm th' one who decided to check their truck out in th' first place."

"I told 'em your name."

Enos shook his head. "It don't matter. He woulda figured it out anyhow. 'Sides, like as not, it's probably th' only reason he didn't toss me over th' edge."

Straining once more against the ropes, he was about to give up again when he suddenly remembered what he had in his pocket. Earlier that day his fishing line had caught on a snag and he'd had to cut it free, loosing one of his best lures. He'd stuck the pocketknife in the back pocket of his pants. Feeling for it, he could just barely reach it but only with the first two fingers on either hand. He raised himself up on his knees to get a better angle.

"What're you doin'?" asked Daisy.

"There's a knife in my back pocket if I can reach it."

His hands began to sweat as he slowly and carefully worked the small knife up from the bottom of his pocket to where he could reach it as Daisy watched with baited breath. His heart pounded because he knew, better than anyone else, how clumsy he was. If there was a hole in a field, he'd find it. If there was a loose rock in his path, he'd trip over it, and he knew if he dropped the knife, there'd likely be no escape for either of them. He felt the end of it at the top of his pocket and prayed it wouldn't slip through his fingers.

He looked up, and his eyes met Daisy's. Daisy - the girl who always made him feel like he could do anything. In her eyes, he was more than just the bumbling son of a ridge-runner. She _believed_ in him, and Enos couldn't bear the thought of letting her down.

Locking his gaze on hers, he pulled the knife out...and didn't drop it. Once he had it in his hands, he was able to open it up and slowly began to cut away at the rope. In a few minutes, he felt it loosen and then slip away. Daisy gave him a huge smile.

"I knew you could do it," she told him as he came over to her. He cut her free and put the knife back in his pocket. "We'd best get outta here before they come t' check on us."

Enos wasn't taking any chances, though. "I'm gonna cut their tires. Stay with me, they probably have some revenuer traps around."

The knife was too small to do any actual damage to the tires, so Enos was forced to wait and let the air out manually. One tire was all he had time to flatten before deciding they just needed to get away. He took Daisy's hand and pulled her with him down towards the road, but stopped before they made it halfway down the hill.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He motioned to two trees standing parallel to each other on the path. "See those trees? I'll bet you a dime a dollar there's a trap between 'em. Watch your step."

They made their way slowly down to the trees where Enos stopped again, pulling her down with him. "What'd I tell ya'?" He pointed to a single strand of fishing line, strung between the two trees about three inches off the ground. They stepped over it carefully and continued down to the road.

"Which way?" asked Daisy.

"This way," he said, pointing to the left.

She looked to the right. "How do you know?"

"'Cause that way's goin' up hill."

The road ended in a fork. With no idea where they were going, they simply took the one that looked like it had had more traffic, though as dirt roads went neither looked very popular. They walked along in silence for nearly an hour, never seeing another soul and not even passing a farmhouse where they might ask directions. Daisy heard the truck behind them first and grabbed Enos by the arm, dragging him to the side of the road. It wasn't the Beaudrys and before Enos could stop her, Daisy stuck out her thumb to bum a ride.

He slapped her arm down. "What th' heck do you think you're doin'?"

"I'm tryin' t' get us a ride."

"You don't know nothin' about th' people 'round here, Daisy. They might be just as bad as th' Beaudrys."

"Well, we ain't goin' fast walkin', smarty-pants."

An old red pickup slowed to a crawl beside them, and a middle aged man in overalls leaned across the seat to them. "You two need some help?" he asked.

"We're tryin' t' get t' Hazzard County," said Daisy before Enos could stop her.

The man looked strangely at them. "Can't say's I've ever heard of there. I'm goin' up t' town, though. You're welcome t' hop in th' back, an' I'll take ya' there."

Daisy turned around to look at Enos. He shrugged. "I s'pose it can't hurt." He looked back at the man. "We're mighty obliged to ya', sir."

"No problem, kids. Climb on in."

Enos and Daisy got into the back of the truck and found themselves winding up and down roads until neither could hope to remember where they'd been. Most of what they passed was dilapidated, a ghost town that had seen better days.

"Ever heard of Highway 30?" asked Daisy, pointing to a road sign.

Enos shook his head. Finally, just past a sign that proclaimed the town to be 'Reliance, population 953', a small Texaco store with gas pumps out front came into view.

"This is town, huh?" said Enos, looking around. "Makes Hazzard look like a big city. I don't know where they're hidin' 900 people, though."

Daisy laughed. "Maybe they're countin' th' dogs, too."

The truck pulled up in front of the store and stopped.

"Hang on a minute, y'all," the man called back to them as he got out. He entered the store and a few minutes later came out with two candy bars and a couple of Cokes. "Here ya' go kids, y'all sit down there on th' bench a minute and have yourselves a break."

Daisy and Enos both thanked him and took a seat on one of the benches outside the door.

"See," said Daisy, "he _was_ nice. Just goes t' show..."

They both saw the Sheriff's car coming down the road at the same time. "Yeah, real nice Daisy," said Enos, jumping to his feet. "He's done called th' cops on us."

"Well, there ain't no harm in that. They'll just take us home."

Enos stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "And what are we s'posed t' tell him when he asks where our parents are? Sorry, sir, my pa' an' her uncle are out runnin' 'shine right now, but they'll be back home later?"

"Good point."

"He can't of seen us, yet. Go hide in them woods over there." Enos pointed to the far side of the store, away from the line of sight of the squad car.

They slipped into the woods just as the deputy pulled in. He glanced around and went into the store. The man with the truck came out with him a minute later, gesturing with his hands as to where they'd come from while the officer appeared to be taking notes.

Enos groaned. "Dang it," he whispered, "now we're _fugitives_. He's gonna be checkin' around here any minute now, so we best make ourselves scarce."

They backtracked into the woods, keeping within sight of the highway. The longer they walked, the longer the shadows became until Enos finally had to face the simple truth of the matter – they weren't going to get back to Hazzard today, and they couldn't very well walk on the highway in the dark.

"Daisy," he said at last, "we need t' find someplace t' stay 'till mornin'."

"What are you talkin' about? We've gotta be getting' close t' Hazzard by now."

He stopped. "Daisy, dontcha even know where we are?"

She shrugged. "Somewhere in th' mountains."

"That patrol car said Polk County, Tennessee. We ain't even in _Georgia_ no more."

"So...how many more hours ya' think we'll have t' walk?"

Suddenly the two year gap in their ages stretched out between them like an immense chasm as he realized she had no idea how much trouble they were actually in. Enos was torn between telling her the truth and not scaring her. He settled for being obscure.

"I'm not sure," he answered.

The sun was almost setting when they came across an abandoned farmhouse. It was missing every window and its roof, but there was a passable looking shed next to it that seemed like it might yet hold up under a stiff wind. They checked it out, finding no one around. In fact this part of the country looked as though it hadn't seen civilization in quite a while. The shed still smelled vaguely of cow, and there was a bale of hay tied up against the wall.

"Well, it ain't th' Hazzard Hotel," Enos said, "but I reckon it'll keep th' 'possums out."

He opened up the hay bale and spread a thick layer out in a large square. "I don't know about you, Daisy, but I'm plum tuckered." He plopped down on his back on one side of the hay, his hands behind his head. Daisy lay down on the other side, a couple of feet away. "I've been thinkin'," he said, "if we see another cop tomorrow, we should probably stop 'em. It just wouldn't have been a good idea tonight, but Pa' an' Uncle Jesse'll for sure be out lookin' for us when they come home."

"I'm gonna get it."

"You an' me both," he said, dejectedly. "Pa' already told me if I got in trouble today, I's stayin' home for a month. Guess I'd best enjoy my freedom while it lasts."

"It'd be worse if it was summer. Least ya' got school t' go to."

"I guess."

"Luke's gonna be even more unbearable now," she sulked. "I wish _you_ were my cousin 'stead of _him_."

Enos gave her an amused snort, but didn't answer. Both were quiet for a long time as the last of the evening light faded outside, and the sound of crickets and cicadas filled the night. He was nearly asleep when Daisy spoke again.

"So...how far away are we _really_?" she asked quietly, wondering if maybe it was further than she'd thought.

"A long way, Daisy Mae. A long, long way."

* * *

><p>Jesse and Otis pulled both their cars up in front of the Duke farmhouse shortly before midnight. Right away, Jesse Duke knew something was amiss. Instead of being asleep, Luke was standing out on the porch waiting for them.<p>

"_Oh Lordy,"_ thought Jesse. He had two guesses about the source of the problem, all that remained was to find out what they'd gotten themselves into _now_. The closer to the porch he got though, the more worried he became. Luke looked scared to death and started down to meet them. "What's th' trouble, Luke?"

"Uncle Jesse...I...I checked the whole way back, an' there ain't nothin' there...they..."

"Now just hold, son," said Jesse. "Slow down, I can't tell a word you're sayin'."

Luke glanced between Enos' father and his Uncle, took a deep breath, and told them about he and Bo leaving the pond earlier and Enos and Daisy going the back way but never showing up back home. He'd waited around for two hours before taking Bo and going to look for them, but he'd never found a trace.

Otis shook his head. "Enos' knows th' way back from there too well t' get lost. They say if they were goin' anywhere else?"

"No sir. I though they were just shuckin' and jivin' me, but they've been gone too long for that."

"They wouldn't have stayed out past dark," agreed Uncle Jesse. "Luke, go an' grab th' lantern from under th' sink an' th' big flashlight."

"Yes sir." Luke ran back inside.

"What're ya' thinkin', Jesse?" asked Otis. "Don't seem like 'em t' make anyone worry like _this_."

"I don't rightly know. There're some sink holes back a ways, though, if they got themselves too far east." He didn't want to speculate any further than that. Otis was right, Enos and Daisy might get into trouble together, but they were good kids and he knew something had to have gone badly wrong for neither to have come home for help.

Luke ran back out with the lights, already having lit the lantern.

"You stay here with Bo an' in case they show up," Jesse told him. "Otis, why don't we go on down to th' pond the back way first by th' trail they should've taken. If we don't find nothin', we'll take it from there."

"Sounds good, Jesse. Go on an' lead the way."

The men walked the two and a half miles, following the old railroad bed down through the woods until they reached the pond, finding no trace of either of the kids. At the pond, they split up, scouring the woods to each side. It was Jesse who found the first trace of them. Their fishing poles were leaning against a tree to the side of the trail.

"What do ya' make of that?" he asked, picking them up.

Otis shook his head. "Enos' wouldn't leave his pole out in th' middle of th' woods. Whatever happened to them, it must have happened close by."

They looked around the woods, spreading out in a wide circle, calling the kids' names, but were only answered by the sounds of the night. At a loss, they met back at the trail.

Otis ran his hand nervously through his hair and held the lantern up high, hoping to find a clue they'd missed. Enos might be clumsy, but he'd never known him to lose his way, nor would he have left the trail and put Daisy in danger when night was coming on. The rays of the lantern fell across the fresh ruts in the road a short ways away, and he walked over to take a closer look. There were several tracks around it, including smaller ones that would belong to the kids, but they ended suddenly without returning, like they'd been picked up...or climbed into something. His hands began to sweat as the realization hit him that it was the only logical explanation. Surely they would have known better to hitch a ride though, unless it was someone they knew. He called Jesse over and showed him what he'd found.

"You reckon maybe they hitched a ride into town?" said Jesse. "That'd explain why they didn't show up on time."

"Can't hurt t' check," said Otis. "You take Mill Road an' I'll take Ridge an' let Agnes know what's goin' on."

The two men spent much of the rest of that night driving down every road in Hazzard, looking in vain for their children. As dawn broke, they met again at the farmhouse - weary, worried, and with a growing feeling of dread that something more sinister than just hitching a ride and getting lost had happened to the two.

* * *

><p>Enos awoke to Daisy poking him in the face with a piece of straw. "Cut it out," he groaned, rolling over the other way.<p>

"Hey, get up, lazybones. Th' sun's been up a good fifteen minutes already at least."

"I don't get up this early."

"Yeah, I know," she griped, "that's why you're always late ever'where ya' go." She waited another minute, but he didn't move. She shook him roughly. "Come on, Enos, we've gotta go."

"Alright, don't get all riled up." He sat up, rubbing his face while Daisy took to laughing wildly at him. He frowned. "What?"

"You look like a scarecrow."

He stood up and leaned over, shaking the straw out of his hair.

The two made their way back out to Highway 30, slowly moving south along the twisty curves that hugged the mountains. Shortly before noon, they started up a steep incline, taller than any of the hills they'd climbed thus far. It took them nearly an hour to walk up it, stopping for rests every now and again. Near the top they passed a marker declaring there to be a scenic wayside at the summit. When they finally made it there, they weren't disappointed.

"Wow," breathed Daisy. "This is really somethin'."

"You ain't kiddin'," replied Enos.

They looked out across the metal barrier that separated the gravel roadside from the steep drop-off on the other side. Before them a lake lay nestled at the bottom of the valley, its cool blue waters vaster than any pond Hazzard County could boast. Beyond it, the mountains stretched out as far as their eyes could see until they disappeared in the distant purple haze.

"Ya' know, Enos," she said, "as much trouble as we're gonna be in, I think it might just be worth it."

* * *

><p>They stayed a little longer, enjoying the view, before Daisy turned back to the road. Enos was just about to follow her when a flash in the dirt just beyond the barrier caught his eye. He walked over to it, convinced it would just be the pop tab from a drink can, but curious nonetheless. Whatever it was had been there a long time, it was sunk into the soil with only a small piece showing. He bent down and pulled it out of the dirt, bewildered to find it was a ring.<p>

It was packed with dirt, so much so that he couldn't tell quite what it looked like. He spat on it and brushed it against his pants. It looked like real gold, with a strange arrangement on the front of two pointed loops forming a diamond shape with a tiny stone in the center.

"Hey, Daisy," he called, catching up to her. "Take a look at this."

He handed her the ring. "Oh...gosh, Enos," she said looking it over, "Who d' you s'pose lost it?"

"I don't reckon there'd be any way of findin' out," he said. "It looked like it'd been there for long time."

Daisy rubbed at the dirt, holding it up to catch the light. "It's pretty," she said, holding it back out for him to take.

Enos shrugged. "Shoot Daisy, what am_ I_ gonna do with it? You can have it."

Her eyes lit up. "Wow! Thanks, Enos." She tried it on her fingers, but it was too large for any of them but her right thumb.

They left the wayside behind them, and started on the long trek down the other side of the hill they'd just climbed.

* * *

><p>The sun beat down on them as the morning passed into mid-day, and the temperature climbed into the high 80's. With no access to water, their pace dropped off dramatically, and Enos was beginning to think they needed to look for somewhere to call the Sheriff's Department themselves when a black, late 40's Ford Coupe blazed by them. A quarter mile ahead of them, it skidded to a sudden stop and began to back up. Enos, worried it was just some crazy person, pulled Daisy off the road.<p>

The coupe finally made it back to them. The driver cut the engine and climbed out.

"Cooter!" shouted Daisy.

She and Enos ran over to where seventeen year old Cooter Davenport just stared dumbfounded at them.

"Ding-dang, Cooter," said Enos. "Am I sure glad t' see you!"

"What in th' Sam Hill are you two doin' _here_?" he asked, but then held up his hand before they could answer. "Never mind, I don't even want t' know. Y'all're apt t' just drag me into whatever trouble you're in right along with ya'."

"It's a long story anyways," said Enos.

"Y'all are a hell of a long way from home." Cooter looked at the road behind him. "I'm gonna guess you need a lift."

* * *

><p>Cooter it turned out had been making a run up to Knoxville the night before, and it was only by dumb luck - or the grace of God, that he'd stayed over in the city and had been in the right place at the right time.<p>

Three hours later, he dropped them off in front of the Duke farm, right behind Otis Strate's Hudson Hornet.

Enos groaned, "My pa' must've been here all night." He turned to Daisy. "I'm right sorry about getting' ya' into trouble, Daisy. I'll find a way t' make it up t' ya', I promise."

She shrugged. "It wasn't your fault, Enos, it was them no account Beaudrys."

Their happy reunion was tempered only by the fact that they'd needed a reunion at all. Daisy explained how they'd ended up in Tennessee, but left out everything that had actually happened at the Beaudry's, skipping straight from their truck stopping to them heading off down the road. Enos let her talk without interrupting.

"Well," said Uncle Jesse, at last, "I sure hope both of you learned your lesson 'bout pokin' your noses in where they don't belong. If them Beaudrys had gotten a hold of ya', there ain't no tellin' what they woulda done."

Otis didn't miss the quick glance that passed between Daisy and Enos.

"Oh, yes sir, Uncle Jesse," assured Daisy, "we sure did."

"Alright, well, I guess you'd best go on in an' rustle up somethin' t' eat, girl. You look like you're 'bout t' blow away."

Daisy ran up the stairs into the house.

"Enos," said Otis, "go on an' get in th' car. I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes sir."

Jesse waited until Enos was out of earshot before turning to Otis. "I'll check around, see who's lost a still, but I don't know if there's anything we can do." He shook his head. "Somebody up above sure was smilin' on them two kids. Maybe this'll keep 'em outta trouble for a while."

Otis laughed. "I ain't gonna hold my breath, Jesse. They sound like they had quite an adventure."

* * *

><p><em>AN: The little part with the ring does have a point, and in putting it in I've shifted in a way the Enos/Daisy thread of the actual series. In every episode from One Armed Bandits to Opening Night at the Boar's Nest, Daisy is wearing a ring on her right hand. As far as I can tell, it's the same ring through all 7 seasons, but I don't have the DVD's so the quality isn't good enough for me to see the details of it very well (if anyone can describe it better for me, please message me). I started thinking, now wouldn't it be interesting if there was a story behind that ring..._

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	3. Someday Never Comes, Part 1

_A/N: I'm a huge stickler for continuity and try to make everything I write plausible in relation to how I know people will react in the future on the actual show. Some people who you may not remember are actually in the show, like John Ledbetter. He's the other guy who was running for Sheriff in One Armed Bandits. _

_Part III, Chapter 1 - After his father has a close call with the law, fifteen year old Enos wonders if living life on the straight and narrow is really a good idea, after all._

* * *

><p>"<em>First thing I remember was asking papa, "Why?"<br>for there were many things I didn't know.  
>And daddy always smiled and took me by the hand,<br>saying, "Someday you'll understand"._

_...But I'm here to tell you now,  
>each and every mother's son -<br>You'd better learn it fast, and you'd better learn it young,  
>'cause "someday" never comes."<br>_

_-CCR_

* * *

><p>March, 1967<em><br>_

* * *

><p>Daisy tapped her pencil idly against her desk, watching the wind shake the leaves outside the narrow window to one side of the school room. It was spring again, or nearly so, with the brisk March breezes bringing storms over the mountains it seemed nearly everyday. Today was no different and though the sun was shining brightly, the clouds on the horizon promised a night of thunder and lightning. She sighed, tired of rain...and tired of being lonely. It was nearly April, though, and the shine runs would begin again soon.<p>

Another month, five or six weeks at the most, and everything would be back to normal – at least so far as life as thirteen year old Daisy Duke went, and _he _wouldn't be stuck up in the hills with his ma' all the live long day.

She doodled absently in the margin of her notes, her pencil tracing an elaborately cursive "E"... "n"... "o"...

"Miss Duke, since you seem to already have a firm grasp of this subject, perhaps you'd like to tell us the answer to number five."

Daisy's head snapped up to find Mrs. Potts, her algebra teacher, staring back at her. A muffled snicker erupted from one of the desks to her right. She looked down at her notes, horrified to discover she'd opened the wrong folder...forty five minutes ago and never noticed she was looking at her history folder and the three branches of the government instead of Algebra.

"I..."

The bell rang, emptying the room almost before it stopped.

"Saved by th' bell, Miss Duke," said the teacher. "I'd appreciate it if you did less daydreaming and more paying attention tomorrow."

"Sorry, Mrs. Potts," she answered, sheepishly.

The teacher smiled and shook her head. "I'd be harder on you if you didn't have an A in this class," she said. "See you tomorrow, Daisy."

Daisy finished gathering her books and hurried out of the room. The high school had a baseball game today against Pruit Corners, and the other students thought she was enough of a geek already without carting her books along with her. She found her locker and chucked them in, slamming it before heading off towards the courtyard.

She saw Enos before he saw her and grinned. He was looking down at the ground – no doubt in an effort not to trip over something, and if she waited a minute he'd walk right past her...and she could sneak up behind him and scare him. She ducked around the corner of the building, only to have her plans thwarted by a girl with long blond hair catching up with him instead and taking his arm.

"Oh good grief...," muttered Daisy, watching with annoyance as Amy flirted unabashedly with her best friend.

She knew Enos wanted nothing to do with the girl, but his problem was that he was too dang polite. Whether it was the school bully or Amy McCullum, he'd stand there and hear them both out with the same unwavering kindness. It was only the people who knew him best who saw the other facets of Enos Strate's personality, and they were a small and close-knit group.

Amy attempted to guide him off towards the parking lot, but he motioned towards the gym instead, and Daisy chuckled as the girl sighed and released him, heading back off in the direction she'd come from. He continued on the way he'd been going, looking around nervously as though he expected she might decide to follow him after all. His attention made sneaking up on him impossible, but Daisy figured teasing him was even better. She ran out from her hiding spot, not missing the grin he shot her as she neared him.

"Hey," he greeted. "You're s'posed t' protect me from her." He tilted his head in the direction Amy had gone.

She laughed and hooked her arm though his, laying her head against his shoulder and batting her eyes at him. "Oh Enos," she simpered, in a fair approximation of Amy's lilting tone, "you have such gorgeous eyes, and you're so tall, an' strong, an' handsome. You make my heart go all fluttery when I see ya', why don't ya..."

He gave her an amused snort and pushed her away from him. "You're awful, Daisy Mae."

"You're just makin' it worse not tellin' her t' leave you alone, you know. You're too nice."

Enos draped his arm companionably around her shoulders. "Let's see, what d' ya' think I should tell her? "Hey Amy, ya' remind me of one of them vultures, sittin' up on a fence post waitin' for me t' come along so you can stick yer claws in me, an ya' creep me out." ?"

"Yeah, that's good!"

"Right... You comin' to my game?"

"'Course I am, don't I always?"

Baseball was the only sport that Enos was actually _good_ at. Somehow, he managed to keep from tripping over his own feet most of the time, and he wasn't too shabby at bat, either. They were at the entrance to the gym now and Enos let her go.

"I'll see ya' later... keep outta trouble."

Daisy rolled her eyes at him. Neither of them had gotten into trouble in ages. "Break a leg," she told him.

"That's not funny, knowin' me," he said before opening the door and disappearing into the building.

Daisy stood, staring at the door he'd gone through for a moment before sighing and turning back towards the courtyard and the front of the school. The game wasn't for another two hours and she'd have to find herself something to do until then.

"Daisy!" Luke's voice called from behind her.

She turned around to see her cousin running towards her.

"What?"

Luke reached her, out of breath. "Hey, are you stayin' for th' game?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Can you tell Uncle Jesse that Mark Conyer's gonna bring me home?"

"That where you're _really_ gonna be?"

Luke flushed angrily. "Just tell him, okay?"

"I'll tell him."

"Thanks, Daisy," said Luke, relieved.

"On one condition."

"I should've known you'd take a bribe."

She shrugged. "You can do th' dishes for three days."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The bargain struck, Luke ran off towards the street where a car with some of the older high school boys were waiting...she didn't see Mark. Not concerned with her cousin, Daisy wandered off campus and down the street towards the town square. Her route put her past Skeeter's Garage where Cooter was out in front, looking under the hood of a '66 Mustang.

"Hey Cooter," she called.

The grubby teen looked up and smiled. "Well hello, Miss Daisy. What can I do for you t'day?"

"Nothin' Cooter, just waistin' time."

"Enos got a game?"

"Yep."

"Hey, you tell him t' tell his pa' that I know where a car is that he can run on th' dirt-track. I'll get it for him if he'll trade me a run."

"You know his pa' ain't gonna pay you with a run. 'Specially not after th' wreck you had this last fall an' lost every drop of 'shine you were carryin'. Aren't you still in th' hole t' Mr. Tillson?"

"Hey now, Daisy-girl, you're gonna rain on my parade."

"I'll tell him," she laughed. "See ya' later, Cooter."

Daisy wandered on, around the corner past the courthouse and police station before deciding to just head back towards the school. The team would be out practicing by now anyway.

* * *

><p>It wasn't much of a game. As small as Hazzard High was, Pruit Corners wasn't even half the size and they nearly had to forfeit from lack of players. Daisy watched with increasing boredom as the game dragged on and on. She really wasn't much for baseball in the first place, and truth be told she wouldn't be here at all except for the tall kid wearing #86, playing outfield. As if sensing her thoughts, Enos looked up into the bleachers at her and smiled.<p>

"Well, it looks like this one's pretty well wrapped up," said Enos' father, Otis.

He and Uncle Jesse had been watching the game from the row behind Daisy. Bo had been next to her for a while, but he'd eventually tired of eating sunflower seeds and had run off to go exploring. Now as the last seconds of the game wound down and people began to file out of the stands, he was still off somewhere with the other kids.

"I'll go find Bo, Uncle Jesse," said Daisy, hopping up.

"Don't go runnin' off for long," he told her, "That wind's pickin' up an' I aim t' be outta here before it starts stormin'."

She flashed her uncle a grin. "I'll be back in a bit, Uncle Jesse. I promise."

The two men watched as she ran down the steps and disappeared around the other side of the gym.

Enos showered and changed as quickly as he could and was just about to open the door to leave the gym when he stopped. He'd bet anything Daisy was waiting outside for him and few and far between were the times he was actually able to sneak up on _her_. He went back the way he'd come and left through the door that led out to the field instead and hopped over the short fence by the dugout. Stopping at the corner of the building, he peeked around to where the front door was. Sure enough, she was there, her back turned to him. Instead of waiting until she saw him, he ran up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She screamed as he swung her around before letting her go.

"Got ya'!" he laughed.

"You know me too well," she complained. "Maybe I'll just wait in th' bleachers for ya' next time."

"Hey now, don't be sore about it," he teased. "No one knows you better than me."

He ran his hand through his still wet hair and grinned down at her, making her stomach get that strange fluttery feeling.

"Just come on," she said, taking his hand and pulling him with her.

* * *

><p>Bo found his way back by himself, and neither Otis nor Jesse was surprised to see Daisy and Enos walking back a short time later towards the bleachers hand in hand. It was a scene that had been replayed countless times ever since Daisy'd been old enough to walk. The subtle changes between them over the last year had been largely lost on Jesse, as busy as he was with keeping Luke out of trouble and raising Bo - but they had not been lost on Otis.<p>

Playing pranks on others had been largely replaced with them pulling pranks on one another, and teasing each other mercilessly about it the whole time. Where Enos, being older, used to clearly be the decision maker between them, he now seemed content to let Daisy be in charge, happily following her wherever she might drag him off to. They were an interesting study, thought Otis - bound together through the years by something deeper than he could ever hope to fathom.

"So...," he began, "are we takin' bets on how long it's gonna be?"

Jesse looked over at him, confused. "How long _what's_ gonna be?"

He motioned at Enos and Daisy. "'Till them two run off together."

Jesse shook his head. "I reckon they learned their lesson a couple years back 'bout running off."

"You know good an' well that ain't what I'm talkin' about," he laughed.

Jesse Duke frowned. With Luke finding more ways to stir up trouble than he could keep up with these days, Daisy tended to get the short end of the stick when it came to catching his attention anymore. It was hard to believe the girl was thirteen...it seemed like just yesterday she was six.

"Daisy ain't old enough t' be thinkin' bout things like that, yet."

Otis eyed him doubtfully. "Seems t' me Lavinia was fifteen when you two got married."

"Times were different then," Jesse assured him, gruffly.

Otis watched them silently for a moment, remembering how it felt to be young and in love. "Not so different," he said, quietly.

He looked back over at Jesse who was now watching the two closely, a worried expression on his face. "Oh, don't worry...Enos ain't figured it out yet. I s'pose it don't help growin' up with me an' his ma'. Ain't two people less in love than we are, I reckon." It was something he'd never admit in any other company, but he and Jesse went further back than most people.

"Well now, I s'pose it ain't no fault but yer own ya' let Bess slip away," Jesse reminded him, changing the subject.

Otis, not about to delve into his own history, persevered. "It'll happen," he assured him. "Whether ya' want it to or not, it will...maybe not soon, but someday."

Jesse watched Enos and Daisy, now standing by the fence. They seemed to be arguing about something, playfully shoving each other. He sighed, supposing Otis was right. It was hard for him to imagine the two without each other and like as not, one of these days they were bound to discover the same themselves. Not that he'd mind especially, Enos was a good kid.

"I reckon it wouldn't be so bad," allowed Jesse, "them stayin' together fer good, but they ain't gonna run off, though."

"Them two?" Otis grinned. "I reckon I'll take that bet."

Enos and Daisy looked up just in time to see his pa' and her Uncle Jesse spit into their hands and shake.

"What'd'ya think they're bettin' on?" Daisy asked him.

He shrugged. "Oh, there's no tellin' with them two."

* * *

><p>The storms of March finally subsided into the warmth of April which slid gracefully into May.<p>

Vance Duke, the son of Jesse's brother, Wilbur, had come down to help out with the spring planting, though as he told it, it was more to keep him out of trouble until he could join up with the Merchant Marines the next fall when he turned eighteen.

He was a hard worker, with more of a sensitive streak than Luke who grated at finding himself yesterday's news and no longer the eldest kid in the family. Vance had eventually given up trying to convince him that he wasn't there to take his place and that he'd be leaving after the harvest. Luke didn't much hear things until he was good and ready to, though – at least not when his pride was in the way.

The school year had finally ended, as much to Daisy's delight as it always was to Enos' chagrin. This summer would be different, though – Arthur Sills, Rooster's brother, had agreed to let Enos drive his '56 Mercury in the dirt-track races in exchange for him clearing the brush around his house since he only lived about half a mile from the Strates.

Enos had begged to drive his pa's Hudson Hornet to which Otis had replied that he needed his car in one piece, thank you very much, and that Mr. Sills had only agreed to let him drive the Merc because it was one leg in the grave already, and he'd figured it would be a cheap way to get it fixed.

True to his word, they'd found a colony of mice had taken up residence in the air filter, and a family of squirrels had made themselves comfortable in the backseat. Otis and Enos spent nearly every waking hour in the month of April down at the Sill's place, taking the derelict 312 engine apart and rebuilding it, and Daisy had begun to tire of hearing all about it from Enos during his father's shine runs.

Their hard work had paid off, though, and out of five races so far, Enos had come in fourth twice and second once, just narrowly missing a win, and it was fairly obvious to everyone watching that his father had at least been teaching him to drive – even if he wasn't teaching him to make 'shine.

On the first Saturday in June, Enos and Luke had both drawn the last race out of three, so they'd all decided to make a day of it, heading out to watch the early races together. Daisy had gone off with some of the other girls, leaving the guys in the bleachers.

Enos was watching the drivers sliding through the corners, trying to pick up some pointers on his weak spot, when he happened to catch the conversation between his pa' and Uncle Jesse who were sitting behind him.

"Heard ya' had a wild time this last week down at the police station," Uncle Jesse was saying.

Enos knew immediately what he was talking about. Earlier that week, Deputy Ledbetter had pulled his pa' over with two jugs of amber colored liquid in the trunk of his car. Only thing was, his pa' wasn't running shine, he was delivering two gallons of cider to Amos Petersdorf, whose apple trees had come down with the blight the previous year, in exchange for three chickens.

"'Ol John was just about mad enough t' chew nails," Otis laughed. "You should've seen his face when he found out he'd caught me runnin' apple juice."

Jesse paused and his voice took on a quieter, more serious note. "You'd just better watch it, Otis, an' 'specially now that you done made him look like a fool. I heard about how he railroaded the Sheriff down in Cherokee County 'fore he transferred up here. That feller's plain ruthless."

"Oh, I reckon I've seen worse," his pa' answered, unperturbed. "He wouldn't of caught me at all if I'd fixed that dang carburetor like I'd planned on th' day before. Blamed thing took t' sputtering like a drowned hen up th' hill..."

Enos tuned them out, lost in his own thoughts.

He'd seen a lot of what life was all about in the hills over the last three years – ever since that first April that his pa' had allowed him to tag along with him to take run orders. At twelve, Enos had though it a grand adventure, eager to prove that he was old enough to help with a man's job. But by fifteen, he'd finally begun to understand the true reasons behind why his father had taken him with him.

There were the "usuals", as Enos thought of them – men like Henstep McCullum, Amos Petersdorf, and Rooster Sills, who made a pretty decent living moon-shining. Instead of squandering good years, they had turned them into more profit the next run by buying more raw materials which in turn had bolstered subsequent years.

But he knew it wasn't them his pa' had wanted him to see. For every moonshiner who owned property and a house, there were five more who squatted on public land in sometimes nothing more than a lean-to hidden off the beaten path, and a still that barely produced enough to keep their families from starving.

It was Saul Parsons who'd taken shortcuts, mixed his batch wrong, and blinded himself last year, and Noah Blythe who two summers ago had tried to hide his still in his root cellar. He'd burned down his house, killing his wife and three children, while he alone escaped. He'd hung himself a couple weeks later.

All these cut at Enos' heart, and made him grateful for what he had - not that the Strates had ever had much to begin with, but he'd never gone hungry or lived in a dirt-floored shack.

There was one tragedy though, that had affected him more deeply than any other, and that had been the death of Petey Johnson. Without a way to sustain themselves, Mr. Johnson's wife, Bess, and his children had been forced to move away. Thing was – Petey had been one of the_ 'usuals_'. He'd done right fine for himself and his family...until he'd died. With his son, Davey, only eight years old, there had been no one to take over the business, and the family had gone from prosperous to destitute in the blink of an eye.

His pa' being taken in by Deputy Ledbetter had been a sharp reminder to Enos of just how close his family skated to loosing everything. Boot-legging was far worse than just getting caught in the woods making 'shine, and it would put his pa' away for twenty years if he got caught across the Georgia border. The Strates were no stranger to prison – his grandpa had died there. He'd only been sentenced to two years, but a heart attack had cut his stay short once and for all. Enos barely remembered him.

To hear his pa' joke with Uncle Jesse about getting caught did little to ease his mind, and he found himself wondering guiltily if he shouldn't press the issue with him about learning to make 'shine...just in case.

"Hey," Vance said, nudging him with his elbow, "You look like you're thinkin' too hard about somethin'. Worried about th' race?"

"Huh?" Enos looked over at him. "Oh, naw. Just thinkin' bout somethin' else."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Enos frowned. "No, not particularly." He hopped up from his seat and headed for the pits.

Enos' distraction cost him finishing the race. In the fourth lap, he let Brodie McCullum get underneath him in the corner and spun out, blowing his tire. He didn't have a proper spare, just the donut out of the trunk. He felt like an idiot putting it on out on the track in front of everyone, but there wasn't much else he could do.

In a dark mood, he drove the car back to the pit area. It was going to cost him his winnings from the week before just to buy a new tire, and he'd been saving up enough to have Skeeter fine tune the timing on it. He slammed the door and sat down, leaning back against the side of the car. Closing his eyes, he listened to the roar of the engines still racing out on the track, thinking how everything would be a heck of a lot easier if he just had more money. That was another thing - with Luke helping Uncle Jesse, they could run a batch though their still twice as fast as his pa' could, plus Luke got a cut of the money for it. Seemed like he was always buying some new gadget for _his _car, Enos thought sourly.

* * *

><p>The ride home had been quiet, and Enos had headed off to his room and shut the door without so much as a word to anyone. Now, his anger cooled, he lay in his bed listening to the rain beat against the roof. It wasn't that late yet, probably getting on towards 9:00 or so he figured. His ma' had already gone to sleep, but he'd heard the screen door open and shut only a few minutes before and knew his pa' would be sitting out on the porch watching the storm. There would be no better time to talk to him than now. Sighing, Enos got out of bed and threw his clothes back on.<p>

The hallway and kitchen were dark, the floorboards cool under his bare feet as he made his way to the front door. As he opened it, a bright flash of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the yard and drive as though it were mid-day. From a hook fastened to one of the rafters, a lantern glowed softly, sheltered under the eaves. He went over and took a seat beside he his pa' on the top step. Neither spoke for a long moment until finally Enos took a deep breath.

"Pa'," he began, "I need t' talk to you about somethin'."

Otis had left his son alone after the race knowing that, like himself, Enos preferred to work things out in his own mind before discussing them. "You ain't still sore about that wreck are ya'?" he asked. "You've done real good so far, Enos, for just bein' fifteen."

"No, it ain't that."

There were only two other subjects Otis could think of that might make his son come to talk to him with such seriousness in his voice – moonshine or girls. He wasn't quite sure which he should be hoping for, but he waited patiently for him to say whatever was on his mind.

"I've been thinkin', pa'..." He paused, looking for the right words, "ever since you got taken in last week...what I mean t' say is...well...what if you _did_ get caught runnin' shine?"

Otis looked over at Enos, but his son's face was turned away, looking out into the night. "Is this what's brought on all th' worry lately?"

"No, it just reminded me of it again. I...I don't wanna be like Davey Johnson."

"Davey Johnson?" Davey Johnson had moved away two summers ago.

Enos fidgeted nervously, looking down at his hands. "He an' his family had t' move away 'cause he couldn't run his pa's still."

"Son, Davey was eight."

"An' probably knew more than me about makin' moonshine," Enos said bitterly. "Just like every other boy 'round here. Somethin' happens, they can pick right up an' take care of things."

"Is that what this is about? You think I oughta teach ya' t' make whiskey in case I go t' _prison_?"

His son was silent and Otis knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "Enos, look at me."

Enos turned towards his father, his face flushed with the awkwardness of having brought the subject up at all.

"You're lookin' at the short term, son, not the long term."

"Huh?"

"You're feelin' sorry for Davey Johnson 'cause he was too little t' learn how to make 'shine an' provide for his family," Otis said, "but I'm gonna tell you something... That little boy's gonna grow up never knowin' th' hardship of having to feed his family by goin' against his conscience." A pained look crossed his father's face, and for a second his eyes were oddly bright.

"The boys you oughta be feelin' sorry for are the ones who'll never know anything else," he continued, his voice betraying the bitterness he felt for the simple truth of the matter. "It'd be easy t' teach you what you need t' know to carry on what I've done. That's what happened to my father, an' his father, an' his father before him. No one told me t' go out an' find my own way. No one told me I could do anythin' I set my mind to. But I'm tellin' _you_ that, Enos, 'cause I'm not gonna trap you into a life where there ain't no way out. You find somethin' t' do that makes you happy - somethin' you can be proud of, 'cause I sure as hell ain't proud t' be a ridge-runner."

Enos was quiet, thinking about his father's words, with a bit more understanding of the man who had always been a hero to him. At last he smiled, sadly. "I'm sorry, pa', I guess I never thought of it like that."

His father shrugged. "Not many do," he said, quietly. "Since we're on th' subject, I've got somethin' for you." He felt in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper which he unfolded and handed to him.

Enos looked it over, but a coldness swept through him as he realized what it was. "I ain't _never_ gonna be no revenuer, pa'," he said, angrily, and handed the brochure back.

Instead of being upset, his father just laughed. "Enos, goin' to th' Police Academy don't mean ya' gotta be a revenuer."

"I don't know, pa'."

"I ain't sayin' t' go, I'm just tryin' t' show you that you have a choice," he told him. "I think you'd make a mighty fine deputy...that is if you could learn t' hit th' broad side of a barn."

"Pa'! I ain't _that _bad a shot."

Otis grinned and handed the paper back to him. "You keep it, son. There ain't no hurry t' make up your mind anytime soon. You're two years from graduation, though like as not, it'll prob'ly feel like tomorrow t' your old man."

"Aw...you ain't so old, I reckon..."

* * *

><p>The next night was clear and a million stars shone down upon him as Otis drove his Hornet quietly through the back-roads of Northwestern Hazzard County on his way to his still site. He'd come up with the idea years before of setting up near one of the mines up on the Choctaw border, that way he could even crank it up in the daylight hours if he wanted, knowing that anyone who saw the smoke would pass it off as coming from the mining operation.<p>

There was something captivating about being in the woods at night, though - with the world asleep and the universe spread out above him, and as he drove he thought back to words he'd told his son. Mostly it had been true, but as much as he loathed his profession, there were undeniably parts that he loved. The beauty of a star-filled night, the thrill of being chased where the stakes were high enough to make you swoon, and coming back with enough money in his pocket to pay the mortgage for a year. The life of the hills was as intoxicating as the whiskey forged in them, and once it drew you in – it never let you go.

He parked his car in the miner's lot and made his way back north, up the hidden trail he'd taken so many times before – but in the dark, the footprints already made in the wet ground before him were invisible to his eyes.

* * *

><p>Butch Harris sipped his coffee in the quiet Sheriff's office. He'd meant to catch up on some of his paperwork, but he had until 5:00 am and since the clock read shortly after 1:30 am, he wasn't in too much of a hurry. This would be his last year as Sheriff of Hazzard County, though it was information no one was privy to yet except for himself and his wife. He'd had a good run and now at 64, he thought perhaps it was time to take it easy before he got too old to enjoy life. The static of the police radio interrupted his peaceful thoughts.<p>

"Sheriff, this is Deputy Ledbetter. I have a 10-80 near Kittredge Mine. 10-45D. Over."

"Oh Lordy," murmured Butch, getting up from his chair, "someone's done gone an' blown 'emselves up." 10-80 was the code for an explosion and the 10-45D meant that whoever it was was already talkin' with his maker. That was just about the last thing he wanted to do tonight. He pushed the button on the two-way radio. "This is Sheriff Harris, I'm on my way. Over."

The Sheriff climbed into his patrol car and made his way slowly up Highway 20 to Ridge-Runner Road that skirted the edge of Choctaw County, wondering how it was that John Ledbetter could have called an explosion in from all the way up here. His patrol for the night should have followed South Highway 20 along the Finchburg County line.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the miner's lot and parked. The commotion had already stirred up a small crowd which had been pulling the night-shift at the mine and a group of twenty or more men stood by the gate, speculating with each other. Butch passed them by as Deputy Ledbetter motioned him over, outside the fenced area.

"What've we got, John?"

"You'd best just come an' see," answered the Deputy. "I got the area secured an' told the foreman not to let anyone past the gate just yet."

"Go on an' lead th' way then."

Butch had been prepared to find a mess when he got there. What he was unprepared for was what he found instead. There was nothing left - nothing but a crater nearly five feet deep.

"What th' _Hell_..."

He'd never in all his days seen a still explode like this – and he'd seen plenty in his days. Deaths from still explosions weren't usually from the force itself, but from being burned by the alcohol catching on fire and flying like Napalm through the air.

He looked over at his Deputy who was, for his tastes, looking far too unconcerned with the situation. "Who was it?" he asked him.

John motioned over towards the edge of the small clearing. "Body's over there," he said. "Wasn't much left."

Butch skirted the pit, filled with twisted shrapnel, to where a burnt and twisted corpse lay face down by the trees. Taking a deep breath, Sheriff Harris rolled the body over.

"Lord God, help us..." he whispered.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Although I wanted Part III to be one complete story, I felt it just didn't have the impact I wanted it to have so it will be in 3 chapters._


	4. Someday Never Comes, Part 2

_A/N: Please note, the ATTD (Alcohol and Tobacco Tax Division) was the division of the IRS charged with enforcing the taxes from sales of alcohol in 1968. Illegal moon-shining fell under their jurisdiction. In 1972, it became a stand alone organization within the Treasury Department and the name was changed to ATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms)._

_One curse word in this story (but I 'bleeped' it)_

* * *

><p>The sound of a car on the drive woke Enos from a deep and dreamless sleep. It was the oddity of the sound - out of place at that time of night. Their drive was far off the main road and even a passing car wouldn't have been heard from the house. He sat up, instinctively knowing something wasn't right. Reflections of lights from a car's headlamps passed around the darkened room and nearly made him jump out of his skin as he pulled his clothes and shoes on to check it out. He stopped by his parents room where his mother was asleep first and knocked softly.<p>

"Ma'," he called. "Ma'?"

"Enos? What's wrong?" she answered, concerned.

He shook, his nerves shocked with the cool air now that he'd left his warm bed. "Ma', somebody's here."

"What?.! I'll be out in a minute."

Taking his father's 12 gauge from the hall closet, he went to the front door and looked through the screen. Obscured by glare from the headlights, he couldn't make out what the car was. It drove slowly, as if giving them time to wake before arriving.

The path curved before it reached the house, and as the car followed it and turned to the side, Enos saw that it was a patrol car. His breath caught in his chest as he leaned the gun up beside the door and reached out to push it open. Like walking in a dream, he didn't feel himself move to the front of the porch, nor did he feel his mother come up behind him and grip his shoulder as Sheriff Harris slowly made his way from the car up to the steps.

"Agnes," the Sheriff began. "There's..." He got no further.

"No!" she cried. "No! Don't you dare say it, Butch!"

"...there's been an accident. I'm...I'm so sorry."

"Pa'...," whispered Enos. "What about my pa', Sheriff? ...He's okay, ain't he?"

It was more of a plea than a question, and even as he spoke the words, time seemed to slow and stop as though giving him a second longer before he heard the truth.

Butch looked at up at him, at the young man who was the spitting image of his father at the same age. "I wish I could tell you he was, son," he said, sadly, "but I can't."

* * *

><p>The phone ringing at the Duke Farm at 3:00 in the morning woke everyone. One by one they straggled into the kitchen, roused by what at this time of the night could only be bad news. The four cousins regarded each other worriedly as their Uncle Jesse answered the phone.<p>

"Hello."

"...Rosco, what can I do for you?"

The worry of the others' turned to fear as Jesse's face turned ashen as the Deputy spoke, and his hand began to shake noticeably holding the phone.

"… I'll be right there," he answered quietly, before hanging up the receiver.

Jesse leaned heavily upon the counter by the sink, his head cradled in his hands. Something that sounded suspiciously like a sob emanated from him.

"Uncle Jesse," said Daisy, coming around to where he was, "Uncle Jesse, what's wrong?"

He said nothing, only held up his hand for her to give him a moment. When he finally raised his head, his eyes were red.

"I...I'm gonna have t' leave for a while, kids."

"What's happened, Uncle Jesse?" asked Luke.

He took a deep, uneasy breath "There's been an accident out at th' old Kittredge Mine," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Luke, confused as to why his uncle would be called out to help in a mining accident, shook his head. Maybe Enos' pa' had asked for him. "At th' mine? Otis sets up out that way, did he call..." The haunted look in his uncle's eyes stopped him short.

"Otis Strate's dead, son."

A hush fell upon everyone as the impact of his words settled in. Otis was practically part of the family - not since Aunt Lavinia had they lost someone so close to them.

"I'm comin' with you," said Daisy.

"So am I," agreed Luke.

"No! Y'all are gonna stay right here, an' wait 'till I'll get back."

"But Enos...," Daisy argued.

His blue eyes were sharp, focused on hers. "Enos ain't your responsibility, girl, no matter how close ya' think you are." His face softened at the tears in her eyes, and he pulled her into a hug. "Ever'one's gonna have a rough night of it, Daisy. You let me tend to it." He released her and headed out through the door.

There would be no more sleep at the farm that night.

* * *

><p>The Sheriff blocked the end of the Strate's drive with his patrol car and waited until Jesse Duke arrived shortly after 3:30 am. Leaving the headlights on in the darkness, Butch got out and watched as Jesse's black Chrysler pulled up beside his and he slowly got out. Their eyes met before either spoke, and between them passed a grim acknowledgement of a tragedy that neither dreamed would have ever happened. The first words out of Jesse's mouth were a given - a ritual response to any abnormal situation.<p>

"What happened, Butch?"

The Sheriff shook his head. "I'll tell you right now, Jesse, I wish I knew."

"Rosco said th' still blew."

"Clean offa th' map."

"It just...it don't make no sense," Jesse said. "Otis wouldn't so much as sneezed around that dang still without takin' it apart an' checkin' it twice."

"_I_ know that, Jesse, an' _you_ know that. We gotta write it up as an accident, though, hard as it is t' believe."

Jesse didn't miss the thread of doubt in the man's words. "You don't sound too sure of it."

"I got nothin' I can prove otherwise." He thought back to the crater and the twisted metal. "An' tellin' th' Feds that he was th' most contentiousness moon-shiner I ever knew ain't gonna go too far." Everybody knew Otis Strate didn't do anything without crossing all his 'T's and dotting his 'I's. Blowing your still up either meant you were an idiot or...well... an idiot.

Butch sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Listen Jesse, I gotta get back up there. The ATTD will be there come mornin'. I'd sure appreciate it if you could look in on Agnes and Enos, though. I had Rosco call Minnie an' she should be along soon, too."

"Will do, Butch...will do.""

"I'll hunt you down when I know more what's goin' on."

The men parted ways, Butch returning to the Kittredge Mine, and Jesse making his way slowly down the drive to the house.

Agnes was inside, obviously distraught. There was no light in the kitchen where she sat, crying at the table. Jesse found the oil lamp sitting in the middle of the living room floor, blazing brightly without the glass chimney on top . He trimmed the wick and brought it in, setting it by the sink.

"Agnes," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Agnes, I'm gonna make ya' some coffee."

She didn't respond, and Jesse left her to find the pot. He filled it with water, poured the grounds in the top, and set it on the wood stove to perk. The Strates were still one of the few families who could afford it who didn't have electricity. Agnes had been vehemently against it, for whatever reason, and Otis had learned early to pick his battles carefully with the woman.

Jesse noticed the woman shivering, whether from the cold or nerves. The night air was chilly for June and the breeze blew through the open windows of the house, fluttering the curtains. He closed the windows and finding an afghan folded on the couch, draped it over her shoulders and went to check the coffee.

Satisfied that he'd done all he could for her for the moment, Jesse turned his thoughts to Enos who he hadn't seen yet. Worried that he might have run off, he did a cursory search of the home and root cellar and finding him nowhere, went to the porch and called his name out into the dark. Nothing answered and he was just about to go back in when his eyes caught the slight movement of a dark shape, huddled in the far corner against the railing.

* * *

><p>Streaks of light had already appeared in the sky overhead by the time Butch Harris returned to the Kittredge Mine. Three ATTD agents were already there. Deputy Ledbetter stood talking to one of the men, gesturing over to the place where the still had been. Another agent was taking pictures. The Sheriff went over and nodded a greeting to the man.<p>

"We'll be out of you way as soon as we can, Sheriff," he said. "Just a few more pictures and I'll be done."

"That's alright, I know how it works, do what you need to. Who's the agent in charge?"

The man who had been talking to John Ledbetter turned towards him. ""That'd be me, Sheriff. Thanks very much for your help, Deputy." the agent told John before walking around to where Butch was. He stuck his hand out and Sheriff Harris shook it. "Agent Stewart."

"Don Harris."

"We'll get this wrapped up real quick for you. Looks like the guy pretty well cleaned _himself _up, though. Must've been high proof."

"I'd like t' have a few words with you if I could, Agent Stewart."

"Not a problem, Sheriff," the agent said, "Walk with me, if you would, I've got something else to show you, back here in one of the caves."

The area around the Kittredge Mine was peppered with caves and crannies and back less than a quarter mile, the land rose up in a sheer rock face. On the other side was Choctaw County. Butch knew Otis had picked the spot not only for its position near the mine, but also because it was so close to both county lines neither would be likely to patrol or inspect it.

He followed the man back about 500 feet on up the trail, just north of the still site.

"Guy must've really been big stuff." He ducked into a shallow cave and dragged out a 50 gallon oak barrel.

Butch smiled sadly. Everything about it said 'Otis' from the polished oak to the custom, hand-made circular mesh screen, carefully crafted to fit perfectly into the top. He pulled the screen off, expecting to find nothing. If Otis had blown himself up, he would have had to be in the middle of distilling his mash for the pressure in the thump keg to be high enough to explode. What Butch Harris found in Otis Strate's barrel only left him with more questions and less answers...and a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The barrel was full of mash. Butch would bet his bottom dollar Otis didn't have two barrels.

He took a deep breath and put the lid back over the mash before opening the next can of worms. "Agent Stewart," he began, "I have reason to believe th' man was murdered."

The agent regarded him shrewdly for a moment, but then shook his head. "That'd be a hard case to prove, Sheriff. The ATTD only has jurisdiction over the still itself since it's property used in an crime against commerce," he explained. "Since its a Federal offense, you'd need to talk to the FBI about it. Honestly Sheriff, even if he was, I'm afraid you wouldn't find many sympathetic ears. I take it you knew him well?"

The Sheriff nodded. "We grew up together. He wasn't your garden variety, backwoods moon-shiner. Otis Strate was one of those people who put th' 'c' in careful. Don't seem likely he'd blow himself up."

"It's a tough life, Sheriff. Tends to make you a lot of enemies, especially if you're good at your job. Listen, I'm sorry I can't be more help, but I've got to get back to Atlanta. I'll have a copy of the official report and photos sent to your station."

"I understand. 'Preciate your time, Agent Stewart."

* * *

><p>Jesse left Enos where he was for the moment and went back inside for the coffee first. He took the pot from the heat and poured a cup, then reached above the sink and took down the small flask that Otis kept stashed there. Pouring a shot of whiskey in, he set it down in front of Agnes and placed her hand around it.<p>

"Agnes, here, I'll be back in a bit. I gotta talk t' Enos."

The sky was just beginning to lighten as Jesse went out the front door, and another car pulled up in front of the house. He recognized it as "Swamp" Molly's and she and Agnes' sister, Minnie, got out. Jesse greeted them somberly before turning his attention again to the young man sitting, staring silently into the early dawn.

He knelt down beside him. "Enos, son, I'm..."

"I'm not your son," he whispered, almost absently, his eyes never meeting Jesse's as he took a seat beside him.

"I ain't gonna lie to ya', Enos," he said, softly. "Nothin' about this is gonna be easy. You just take it one minute at a time." Both sat in in silence until the sun finished rising.

The screen door opened and Molly came back out, but as the door closed it smacked the doorstop loudly. Enos startled from his trance, and Jesse put his hand on his shoulder.

He turned to Jesse as though he'd only just seen him. "Hey, Uncle Jesse," he said, softly, "I...was...was doing somethin', but I guess I forgot what it was."

"It's fine, Enos, Minnie an' Molly are here. They'll take care o' things."

Enos got up from the porch and wandered back into the living room and sat down on the couch. His mind kept circling around and around, lost in an odd dream which he couldn't seem to remember what was about or how to wake from it. There was something he'd forgotten or something he was supposed to be doing...

Jesse watched as the brief flicker of life in Enos faded back into listlessness.

"I'm gonna go talk t' yer aunt, an' I'll be right back."

Jesse left him and found Minnie to begin the grim task of planning the wake of his best friend.

* * *

><p>Butch left Agent Stewart back where the trail split off towards the miner's lot and then headed into the brush, taking a shortcut back to the scene of the explosion. He was nearly to the clearing when a fluttering motion near the ground caught his eye. A bit of paper clung to one of the short, scrub bushes which grew along the rocky hillside. Picking it up, he examined it, only to find it unremarkable – brown and plain, like the kind a grocery sack would be made from...or...he sniffed it - the unmistakable smell of dynamite hit his senses.<p>

Deputy Ledbetter had left the scene so Butch went off in search of him, finding him talking with one of the miners back at the parking lot.

"I need a word with you, Deputy."

"Catch ya' later, Fred," John told the miner. "What did you need, Sheriff?"

"Not here." He motioned for the man to follow him as he led them over to the patrol cars. "I've a mind t' call in the FBI, John. You wanna tell me what really happened here today? An' don't play me for a fool - Otis would've had t' be running jet fuel through that still t' make it blow like that."

"You sound like you're accusing me of doin' somethin' untoward."

"You tell me what ya' did," he said, "an' I'll be th' judge of it."

John just laughed. "Tell me somethin' Butch, you really think th' FBI's gonna give a sh*t about some moon-shiner meetin' his maker? All I have to tell 'em is how I found a still out in th' middle of nowhere, decided to do my sworn duty in blowin' it up, an' low and behold the owner comes by just when I detonate it. How's that sound to you, Sheriff? Put your mind at ease?"

Butch's skin flushed in anger. "I ain't been doin' this job for thirty years without knowin' a lie when a hear one. What _really_ happened?"

)()()(

_John Ledbetter shined his flashlight around the still. In the darkness the fuse line was barely visible where he'd threaded it into the thump keg and where six sticks of dynamite awaited the charge from a blasting cap that would erase another one of his problems, once and for all._

"_You're about t' be takin' a number at th' pearly gates, Otis. Hope you're all caught up on your prayin'." He propped the man, bound hand and foot, up to lean against the barrel._

"_Please...John, I have a family," Otis pleaded. "Take me in, an' I swear I won't fight you on it. Don't make my son face somethin' like this."_

"_Too bad he ain't here, we coulda made it a family affair," John said, ambivalently. "It's a dangerous profession, you know, moon-shinin'... people are always blowin' themselves up."_

)()()(

John's gaze didn't falter under the Sheriff's scrutiny. "Just doin' my job, Butch."

As much as Butch knew himself to be looking at a murderer, John Ledbetter was right. All it would take would be for him to say it was an accident – that he'd found the still abandoned and blown it up. The only thing that would come of it would be for the deputy to get a slap on the wrist for not calling the ATTD before disposing of it.

"Hand over your gun and badge - you're relieved of your duty."

"Have it your way, Butch," he shrugged. "You gotta retire one of these days. I can wait." He took off his gun belt and tossed it and the badge on the ground before heading back down the trail, leaving the Sheriff alone.

* * *

><p>"I really 'preciate you offerin' your house to use for th' wake, Jesse." Minnie rubbed her eyes, and he knew she must be exhausted what with four children at home and the youngest ones twin boys.<p>

"Now then, Minnie, it ain't no problem at all. It'll be easier with th' 'lectricity an' plumbin' anyhow, an' I know you've got your own hands full already."

She nodded gratefully. "I'm gonna take Agnes home with me, but I don't know what t' do about Enos. He ain't as close to his ma' as he is t' you Dukes. It was pretty much he an' his pa' gettin' by up here an' Lord knows I know how she can be towards him. Ain't right for him to be alone, though."

"That's alright. I'll take him with me."

Minnie was quiet a moment and closed her eyes. When they opened, Jesse saw there were tears shining in them. "Oh Jesse," she said, her voice catching on a sob as she spoke, "I'm so worried about him. He thought his pa' hung th' moon."

He patted her hand. "It ain't gonna be easy or quick, but if we're there for him, I reckon he'll get through it."

"I sure hope you're right, Jesse."

The drive back to the farm was solemn. Enos, still in a daze, hardly seemed to notice anything, and though Jesse knew it was normal, it didn't keep him from worrying about the boy. This would be the quiet before the storm and the only question was what would happen when that storm finally came – when his mind awoke from it's protective fog and forced him to face reality. Jesse knew that his own grief over Otis' death would come as well – he had been like a brother to him, but there were others to take care of first and things that needed doing.

His mind wandered back five year earlier, to the death of his wife, Lavinia. Though they had known for months that her time was short, it had still been a shock to find her gone, and even now there were days when the loss seemed like yesterday. He'd coped by helping the kids struggle through it. At the time, he'd felt overwhelmed, but having them there had turned out to be the biggest blessing God could have sent him.

He pulled the car up in front of the farmhouse and got out. Before he had a chance to say otherwise or warn her, Daisy came running out and down the steps. Uncle Jesse caught her arm and held her back from the car.

"He ain't himself, Daisy," he reminded her gently, "an' you let him be if he wants. He's got t' work through this in his own way."

She looked up at him. "I know that, Uncle Jesse. I just...I just want him to know I'm here."

Jesse smiled sadly down at her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Bring him in, I'll get th' guest room set up."

Daisy waited until her uncle had gone up the stairs before opening the passenger side door.

"Enos?"

She called his name softly, but he didn't respond. He seemed almost to be asleep, sitting up with his eyes open. She put her hand gently against the side of his face and tilted his head towards her. The motion brought him back into the real world and he blinked, surprised to find they were already there. Hadn't they just left a minute or two ago?

"Daisy?"

"Hey. You need some help?"

He glanced around him, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. "I don't know."

Daisy took his hand in hers and tugged gently until he instinctively climbed out of the car to stand beside her. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he leaned into her as she guided him up the stairs and into the kitchen. The room was empty, Uncle Jesse having shooed Luke, Vance, and Bo out of the way until Enos was settled.

"I sure am awful tired, Daisy," Enos mumbled quietly to her. "Ain't it mornin' yet?"

"It's been mornin' for a while, Enos," she answered, confused. "But that don't matter. You look like you could use some sleep." She steered him towards the bedroom. "Why don't ya' lay down for a spell.

He was asleep the moment his head hid the pillow.

"Uncle Jesse," Daisy whispered to her uncle, "does he know his pa's died? He doesn't look very sad."

"He knows, baby girl," he told her, "he just ain't had time t' think about it yet." He flipped off the light and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Enos' dissolved into a world of confused dreams. It was the night after the race again, and his pa' was sitting on the step in the rain, his back turned to him. As Enos approached him, the porch seemed to get longer and longer. The more he walked, the further away his father was until Enos was running as fast as he could to try and reach him.<p>

The dream shifted and he was staring at the lantern, hanging from the eaves. It burned cheerily in the darkness, a cozy orange light that reminded him of warm summer nights and the smell of honeysuckle. As he watched, the flame grew and grew until it was a raging inferno, swirling over the wooden beams and across the floorboards - the heat from it stinging his eyes and blistering his skin. His pa' still sat, unmoving, on the other side, unmindful of his son crying out to him. As hard as he tried, Enos couldn't cross the flames to get to him. Something from the real world, outside of the dream, entered his mind...something he'd forgotten...and he awoke, still screaming his father's name.

"Pa! ...Th' lamp!" Disoriented, he mistook the bed for his own, misjudged the height of it, and fell off the side onto the floor. He'd slept though the day and it was evening again. In the darkened room, tangled in the bedsheets, he screamed again, still lost in the world of his dream, believing the house was burning around him.

It was supper time at the Duke farm. With everyone lost in their own thoughts and merely picking at the food, it had been a quiet meal – until Enos shattered the silence. Everyone got to their feet.

"You kids stay here." Uncle Jesse motioned to them before hurrying off to towards the bedroom.

He opened the door and flipped on the light to find Enos thrashing around on the floor, crying, and muttering something about a fire. Jesse took him by the arms, pulled him up, and shook him gently.

"Enos. Enos, wake up..."

With the light in the room, reality slowly took the place of his dream. Enos, his eyes wide with fright, grabbed Jesse's arms frantically. "Uncle Jesse...th' lamp...I left th' lamp burnin'!"

"It's okay, Enos," he said, calmly. "I found it. Take it easy."

Enos looked around, confused. Had his pa' had a run? What was he doing at the farm? No...his father had been out at his still tonight because there was a 'shine-moon tomorrow. He'd talked to him before he'd left, about getting a tire from the junk yard. His mind turned slowly, as though it were some ancient machine – rusty and broken, and Enos struggled to clear the sleep from it. He'd gone to bed...he remembered going to bed...and lights. A light, floating over the wall of his room...like a ghost... Suddenly, the memory hit him with the force of a high speed freight train. A choked sob escaped him as he stared at the older man.

"Uncle Jesse...my...," he couldn't make himself finish. To ask would bring an answer and in his heart of hearts he knew what that answer would be. "How?" he whispered instead.

Jesse shook his head. "If I knew, I'd tell you, Enos, an' that's th' honest t' God truth. You an' I both know your pa' didn't do anything by halves. Truth is, we may never know what happened."

Enos released his grip and looked past Uncle Jesse, down the hallway. "Where's my ma'?"

"At your Aunt Minnie's. If you'd rather, I can take you there," he added.

Enos shook his head, relieved that she wasn't there at the farm.

"There's some supper if you feel like eatin' somethin'," said Uncle Jesse.

"No..I...I think I just want t' be alone for awhile, Uncle Jesse," he said. "if that's alright."

Uncle Jesse lay his hand on his shoulder. "You do what you feel like you need t' do. We'll be right here if you need us."

Jesse left the room, closing the door behind him. Enos went over and flipped the light back off, shrouding the room in darkness again. For the first time in his life, he felt...lost. It seemed incomprehensible that his father...that he was...he was...

"...dead...," he whispered.

The word sounded strange on his lips and even as he said it, there was still a part of him that didn't – couldn't, believe it. His chest felt strangely heavy, as though some invisible weight were crushing down upon it. The room seemed to shrink around him, making him claustrophobic - the walls separating him from the air he seemed to not be able to draw into his lungs.

He raced to the window and threw it open, trying vainly to catch his breath, but the night air was heavy and humid and seemed to cling to him instead. Without warning, a wave of sorrow hit him, more powerful than any emotion he'd ever felt before in his life, threatening to drown him in the truth - and all he could think of to do was to run. Enos clambered through the open window, into the yard, and without stopping to think about what he was doing or where he was going – he ran...as though all the demons of hell were chasing after him.

The full moon lit the path before him, but he wouldn't have noticed even if it had been pitch black. His feet took over where his mind had left off, and they knew the way by rote. He felt neither the branches as they whipped at his face nor the rocks that cut at his bare feet as he raced on through the cimmerian night. Enos didn't stop when he reached the end of the trail, but ran on, across the dock that stretched out over the water. Taking a flying leap off the end, he disappeared into the dark waters of Hazzard Pond.

As the water dragged him under, instinct took over, forcing him back up to the surface. Blindly, he drew a deep breath and dove back under, feeling the water rushing into his ears, the ice-water blackness swallowing him alive. The cold startled his mind out of it's numbness as the fear of death became greater than its need to escape reality and he swam to shore, dragging himself out of the murky water to collapse on the grassy bank above.

How long he lay there, he couldn't have said. Time seemed to have taken on a new meaning, becoming more of an idea than anything set in stone, and as Enos felt the soft, cushioning fog of unreality settle down upon him again, the minutes clicked by - stretching into an hour before he moved again.

He finally picked himself up from the ground and stripped off his overalls, soaked and caked with mud, down to the shorts and undershirt he'd originally worn to bed. He found himself thinking, "_when I put these clothes on, my pa' was still alive."_

He sat down under the old, gnarled oak tree that grew off to the left side of the bank. There was barely a ripple in the water of the pond in front of him, its glassy surface reflecting the light of the full moon.

"_The 'shine-moon...,"_ he thought, and it was only then that he realized he'd lost an entire day and that everything must have happened the night before. He sat, unmindful of the midges and mosquitoes biting him until, leaning against the tree, he fell back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Daisy had tossed and turned all night, worrying about Enos. At first light, she dressed and left, tip-toeing down the hallway to the guest room. Not wishing to wake him, she turned the knob quietly and opened it just enough to glance through. The room was empty.<p>

"Enos?"

Her eyes were drawn to the open window as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. If he wasn't here, she knew where to find him, and her heart skipped a beat as she thought of him going to the pond in the middle of the night. Knowing if she woke Uncle Jesse, he'd want her to stay home while he went to find him, she climbed through the open window and started running. She counted her footsteps as she ran, choosing to follow the quicker route by the road down to the pond instead of the back trail that she and Enos usually took. It should be _her_, she reasoned, to go – not Uncle Jesse or Luke. There had never been anything the two of them hadn't faced together, and she wanted -_needed_, to be there with him.

It was morning when Enos woke, still soaked to the bone, but now sore in more spots than he could remember having. He heard the sound of footsteps coming down the road, recognizing them as Daisy's simply by the way she ran. She came quietly over and sat down beside him, not saying a word...and suddenly - he could breathe again. He slid his hand into hers and leaned over to lay his head on her shoulder.

She squeezed Enos' hand gently and turned towards him, resting her own head against his - bound together by something neither knew a name for, but that they'd shared for as long as either could remember. In her eyes, _he_ was the strong one, always there with an easy smile, knowing better than anyone how to make her happy when something had brought her down. She'd always felt protected just to have him close.

Now, their roles reversed, Daisy found herself not knowing what to say or do, and so she simply sat with him in silence, tears slipping down her cheeks as she thought of all he'd lost. After a few minutes, he moved back and leaned his head against the tree, but kept his hand entwined with hers

The day was already beautiful – a breeze blowing through the trees made the humidity of June less noticeable, and birds chased each other over the water, chirping sweetly. It seemed almost sacrilegious that it could be so perfect when his own world had come to an end. Until then, he had always thought of himself as he knew others had, as his father's son. Who then was _Enos _Strate? Life without him was incomprehensible and Enos felt himself lost in a free fall with nothing to cling to but the girl next to him...and how could he dump his troubles on her? It made him feel worse to know he was the source of the tears in her eyes.

He stood, helping her up before letting go of her hand and grabbing his overalls from where they lay in a crumbled, wet heap.

"We'd best head back," he said. "before Uncle Jesse comes lookin' for you."

"No, they'll know where I am," she assured him. "but... today's th' wake. ...I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "That's a stupid name for it," he muttered as he trudged up the bank.

Daisy ran to catch up.

* * *

><p>Not a word was said about his disappearance, nor did Uncle Jesse scold Daisy for having run off after him. Enos showered and changed into the set of clothes he kept at the farm for the nights he stayed over. He sat in a corner of the kitchen, arms crossed, trying to blend in with the wall as guests began to slowly filter into the house.<p>

His ma' flitted around as though nothing was wrong, and he thought it perverse that she should be playing hostess at the Duke farm when she'd never had anything good to say about them - nor anything good to say about his pa' or himself for that matter. Riveted to his chair, a scowl on his face, he watched her soak up the pity of others, anger threatening to burn him from the inside out.

Most people hadn't noticed him or didn't know what to say to a fifteen year old boy whose father had blown himself up making whiskey. It was fine by Enos. He'd rather be ignored than listen to another person tell him his pa' was in a better place, or that it was God's will, or that heaven forbid he should just get over it.

He was working up the nerve to get up and just go back out to the porch when a portly, balding man man smoking a cigar made his way over to him.

"Well hello there, sonny," he said. He voice was kind, but with a touch of condescension behind it. "You must be Enos."

He glanced up at the man. "Yes sir."

"I'm J.D. Hogg. I was a friend of your father's," he glanced upwards, "May God rest his soul."

Enos recognized him only for who he was, and doubted very much he was a friend of his pa's. His father had mentioned once briefly that Mr. Hogg had aspirations to buy up the whole town, but that was all he knew of the man.

"I don't know you," Enos said, flatly.

"No matter about that," the man continued. "You know," he said, laying a hand on Enos' shoulder, "I was thinkin' just the other day what a cryin' shame it would be if there was no one to carry on your father's legacy."

"I'm not rightly followin' you, Mr. Hogg."

"Why, your pa' made th' finest shine this side of th' Mississippi, son! An' leavin' all his customers out there with no one t' help them out ain't gonna take care of you an' your ma'." Enos said nothing. "That's where I come in, see. Together we'll keep up your father's reputation. All I needs for you t' tell me his recipe, son, an' I'll take care of all th' details."

"My pa' didn't teach me how t' make moonshine...sir."

J.D.'s mood suddenly shifted. "What!.?" he bellowed. "You mean t' tell me th' son o' th' best moon-shiner in th' hills ain't got a clue how t' make it? Of all th' useless..."

"J.D.!" Uncle Jesse shouted. "You get away from that boy!" He came into the kitchen and pointed at Mr. Hogg. "You ol' sidewinder! Ain't you got no respect? Th' boy just lost his pa' an' you're already tryin' t' snooker him. You know good an' well Otis didn't want his son t' have anything t' do with moon-shinin'."

The man shot Jesse a dirty look. "I was hopin' you was wrong," J.D. said, sarcastically.

"Just get out!"

"Fine, I'm goin', Jesse." Sticking his cigar back in his mouth, and shooting a last glare at Enos, J.D. Hogg stormed out of the farmhouse.

Jesse turned to Enos. "Don't you listen t' that ol' goat. He'd try an' scam th' spots off a leopard if he could."

"It don't matter, Uncle Jesse. He's right...I _am_ useless." He got up and made to leave, but Jesse caught his arm.

"Son..."

Enos wrenched his arm out of his grasp. "Quit callin' me that! I ain't your _son_!" He ran out the kitchen, slamming the screen door behind him.

Luke, having only heard the last part of the conversation, started after him, but Uncle Jesse held him back. "He's just outta sorts, Luke. Let him be."

* * *

><p>Enos returned that day with his mother to their home in the hills. Far from feeling like normal, he spent the rest of the month of June in what amounted to solitary confinement. Agnes Strate wasn't in the habit of visiting people and even less in the habit of accepting visitors. Though Jesse Duke had come by to check on them often, she'd made it clear he wasn't welcome. Enos, ashamed of his behavior at the wake and not wanting to bother Uncle Jesse with anything, refused to even come out of his room.<p>

His days ran together, waking in the morning only to do the things that had to be done around the house and take care of the animals, then closing himself again in his room. Sometimes he would drift back off to sleep to wake in the middle of the night, unsure of if the last month had been a dream or if it were real. His mother avoided him like the plague and the few times he'd tried to talk with her, he'd received only a curt reply that had nothing to do with what he'd asked.

June faded into July, changing little at the Strate home until the morning Enos' mother woke him with a shake.

"Enos. Get up."

"Huh?" Groggily, he opened his eyes and looked up, confused to see his mother there. "What's wrong, ma'?"

"Get up. It's time t' go."

"Go where?" Were they going somewhere? He thought through the haze of sleep but drew a blank. "Where're we goin'?'

"Just you never mind that. Get up, I already packed yer bag."

"Uh...alright. I'll be right there."

Thinking they must be going to stay with her sister, he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed. She was already in the car by the time he was ready. He leaned his head against the window as they pulled out of the driveway and closed his eyes, watching the flickering of sunlight from behind his eyelids. Quite some time passed before he opened them again, and he gazed at the road with indifference until they passed a sign that said "Sweetwater County". He sat up in his seat, taking a better look around at the scenery, and realized he had no idea where they were. Sweetwater County was west of Chickasaw County – his aunt lived in Hatchape County, north of Chalk Hills.

"Ma'...Aunt Minnie don't live out this way."

"We ain't goin' to yer aunt's."

"Where're we goin'?" Being alone with his mother made him nervous enough – going somewhere strange with her made it even worse.

"I've had about all of Hazzard County I can say grace over," she told him. "We're leavin',".

"But...but...what d'ya mean we're leavin? Where're we goin'?.!"

"'Bout as far away from these hills as we can go. I packed what ya' needed so don't start naggin' me 'cause we ain't goin' back for nothin'."

Enos' heart pounded in his chest. "What'd ya' mean we ain't goin' back?.!" he cried.

Agnes Strate laid on the brakes, bringing the car to a abrupt stop. Enos hit his forehead against the dash, cutting himself just above his left eye. His mother turned to him, an exasperated look on her face.

"Now look what ya' did," she complained. Grabbing a tissue from her purse, she held it to his eye to staunch the blood. He batted her hand away.

Knowing emotional arguments would get him nowhere, he tried to appeal to her logical nature. "Ma', we can't leave. What about th' animals...an' th' house?"

"I sold th' animals this mornin', an' they'll be comin' for th' house sooner than later since your pa' only had th' mortgage paid through this month."

"But...I don't wanna leave Hazzard!"

"Then get out," she said, pointing to his door.

At first he thought she was joking, but her expression wasn't lighthearted at all. "What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Your pa' didn't want t' leave them God forsaken hills either, an' look where it got him," she reminded him. "You wanna join him, go ahead. Get out!"

He hesitated - torn between his duty to his mother and family, and that of the only life he'd ever known. As he sat, his hand on the handle of the door, his mind turned to Uncle Jesse, Daisy, Luke, and Bo, and to a woman who'd been more of a mother to him than his own...Aunt Lavinia. Coupled with the loss of his father, the memories of her seemed to burn brighter, her loss cutting even deeper than before. He'd lost two of the three most important people in his life already, and if he never saw the third again...

"I'm sorry, ma'. I gotta go home."

Enos opened the door and climbed out, shutting it behind him, half expecting her to get out and try and convince him to get back in. Instead she drove away, leaving him alone by the side of the road. He watched until the dust settled, then turned and began to walk.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Uncle Jesse's car: After watching Days of Shine and Roses and taking screenshots of the movie they showed, I've concluded that the ORIGINAL "Black Tillie" was a 1940 Chrysler New Yorker._


	5. Someday Never Comes, Part 3

_A/N: On a trestle bridge, the frames that hold the bridge up are called "bents"._

* * *

><p>Enos made his way slowly north, back towards Highway 36 that ran east into Chickasaw County. The morning was already oppressively hot, typical for July in the deep south, and in no time at all he was drenched with sweat. He kicked a rock down the road, watching the puffs of dust it stirred up as it skittered across the dry hardpack.<p>

He closed his eyes and tried to pretend it was an ordinary day - that he was walking home from going fishing or school...anywhere but from where he was now. His ma' would be home sitting on the couch, ready to address some grievance she'd assumed he'd perpetuated, and his pa' would be outside under the engine of his Hudson, fiddling with something. His heart wasn't in the illusion, though, and instead became even greater aware of the stillness around him as he realized that for the first time in his life, he was truly alone.

What he really felt was _empty, _that he was only the shell of whomever he used to be and that the rest of him - his very soul perhaps, was gone. Somewhere along the way, it had been poured out like water onto the cracked and parched dirt of rural Georgia without even a trace left to mark its passing. It bothered him that he'd not felt like crying, not for his pa', whom he'd loved dearly, nor for his ma' who'd run off to Lord knows where, leaving him to fend for himself. Days went by without living it seemed, as spiritless as the rocks he kicked down the road.

The sun was nearly straight above him by the time Enos made it to the paved highway, and he groaned as he passed a sign proclaiming that Hazzard was 18 miles away. What would have been a journey of several minutes by car took him over six hours. It was dusk by the time he crossed into Hazzard County and he still had another eight miles to go.

He made it home at full dark, and collapsed on the couch in a ragged heap. Though he'd never felt so tired in all his life, his conscious mind wouldn't let the sleep come. All his days were gray, but his dreams were brilliant, blazing, technicolor nightmares.

Finally he gave up and went back out to the porch, taking a seat in the corner where Uncle Jesse had found him the night his father had died. It was pitch black without the lantern lit, and with no moon the only illumination was the pin-prick flashes of fireflies darting here and there over the uncut grass. He sat, listening to the sounds of the night until the first streaks of light marred the sky, and a dreamless sleep found him at last.

* * *

><p>Arthur Sills pulled his truck up in front of the Duke farmhouse at dawn. Daisy, who'd been washing the breakfast dishes, met him at the door.<p>

"Howdy, Miss Daisy, yer Uncle Jesse around?"

"Hey, Mr. Sills. Sure is, I'll run an' get him."

Company at the Duke farm wasn't out of the ordinary, but the last month had seen more than its fair share. Life still went on in the hills, and the families who had relied on Otis to run their whiskey for them had been forced to find someone else or sit out the season. Most of the weight had fallen on her Uncle Jesse's shoulders – so much so that he'd had to throw in with Moses Davenport for the rest of the summer.

"Hey there, Art," Jesse greeted the man as he followed Daisy from the barn back up to the porch, "what can I do for ya'?"

"Mornin' Jesse. Got a couple cases, if'n you don't mind. Hate t' trouble ya', though, I know you're awful busy." He took an old handkerchief from the pocket of his overalls and wiped his brow.

"Oh now Art, it ain't no trouble." He'd been expecting the man sooner or later. "I know you an' Otis went back quite a-ways."

Art shook his head sadly. "Sure was a right shame about th' man. Don't know anyone who don't feel like they ain't lost a brother," he said. "Speakin' of th' Strates, Agnes came by early yesterday mornin'. Guess she's up an' decided to leave Hazzard. Wanted' t' sell off their cow and chickens."

"Leavin'?.!" cried Daisy, who'd been listening half-heartedly. "Uncle Jesse, we gotta do somethin'!"

"'Fraid you'd be too late, young lady," Mr. Sills told her, "I knocked on their door come yesterday evenin' an' there wern't no answer. Reckon they're long gone by now."

"But...but..we..." She stopped, heartsick, as Uncle Jesse shook his head sadly.

"Daisy, honey," he said, gently, "if they're gone, there ain't nothin' we can do."

She ran into the house, the screen door smacking shut behind her.

Jesse watched her go, thinking of how Otis' death had affected so many beyond his own family. After all those two had been through, Daisy loosing Enos wouldn't be a wound that healed quickly.

"Good kid that," said Art. "Sure is a shame. I know she was awful close to their boy."

Jesse sighed and turned back to the man. "Well Art, lets get that shine of yours loaded in. How many cases you say you have?"

Daisy watched from her bedroom window as Uncle Jesse followed the man down the porch steps to his truck, her thoughts on Enos. The last time she'd seen him had been at his father's wake. Guilt at not having insisted she go along with her Uncle Jesse to check on him and his ma' pricked her conscience. She'd not done enough – not said the right things, and there were so many things...

"_So much to say...,"_ she whispered to herself.

If he was gone, he might as well have been up on that mountain with his pa' for all she'd be able to find him. She leaned her head against the smooth wood of the window casing, tears in her eyes, wishing for all the world she could turn back time six weeks.

Uncle Jesse and Mr. Sills gathered up two crates of moonshine from the back of his truck and disappeared into the barn where Jesse kept his Chrysler, affectionately named _"Sweet Tillie"_. As the two men walked off, Daisy opened the window and climbed out into the yard.

Other that being a passable moonshiner, Arthur Sills was well known to be somewhat of a packrat, spending most of his days driving around town, picking up things he thought he could use here and there – better known as 'junk' to most townsfolk. Today he'd been out early and the truck was piled high with old tires and barn boards.

Having seen his moonshine safely deposited in the back of Jesse's car, Mr. Sills got back into his truck, and drove slowly up the drive and back to his home in the hills, never even noticing the stow-away hidden in the back.

The tires and boards Daisy had concealed herself under jostled with each bump and hole in the road until at last the truck reached its destination and pulled off the road Arthur Sills shared with the Strates and Millers. Daisy waited until she'd heard the door of his house open and shut before swinging herself over the side of the truck and running back down to the road.

The Strates lived up the hill, the last home before the road turned back towards town again in a long loop.

She ran up the steepening grade, anxiety driving her stride. The house wasn't visible from the road and only a broken brick pillar marked the entrance to the narrow lane that led back to the property. Branches of hundred year old oaks closed in high above her, the sun that filtered though them dancing in bright patterns along the road.

In all the years she'd known Enos, Daisy couldn't remember a time she'd been in his house. Mrs. Strate was best avoided, and the only reason Daisy even knew where he lived was from the times he'd caught a ride to or from school and Uncle Jesse had dropped him off. She quickened her pace, knowing she was bound to find the house deserted but not able to stop herself from hoping.

The lane opened up into what normally was a small, neatly kept lawn, surrounded by woods on all sides. The grass had grown unchecked, and instead of a yard she was met by a field of wildflowers and weeds, some as tall as her waist. Her heart sank as she noticed the barn door standing open and the absence of Otis Strate's beloved Hudson Hornet. The house itself was quiet and lifeless, slowly decaying in the humid heat of summer. Slowly she climbed the steps, ready to knock on the door when she stopped, crying out in relief. There, propped against the railing, was Enos.

He was filthy, covered from head to toe in dust, a dried crust of blood running from over his left eye and down the side of his face, but Daisy thought she'd never seen anything so beautiful that day as the sight of Enos sitting there, sleeping in the sun. She knelt down in front of him, watching the morning light as it played across his face, highlighting the auburn streaks in his dark brown hair. Hesitantly, she raised her hand and stroked his cheek softly, feeling his warmth against her trembling fingers.

"Oh Enos," she whispered, "I thought I'd lost you..."

He stirred and before she could move back, his eyes opened and focused on hers. She blushed at him waking to find her so close and touching him so intimately, but Enos didn't seem to notice. Wordlessly, he reached out and smoothed the tears from her cheeks.

"You shouldn't be here." he said, quietly.

"_Here_ is where I _should_ be," she corrected him.

Enos found himself caught in a tug of war. He wanted so much to sit in the sun with her, like that day at the pond – to hold her hand and let the pain he felt slip quietly into the background, but doing so would be to steal her strength and leave her with tears in her eyes over what had happened to him. He had to protect her from himself - from the pain inside him, and there was only one way he knew to do that...make her leave.

She felt the change in him even before his expression hardened. He dropped his hand from her face and stood up.

"I'd thank ya' t' quit cryin' over me, Daisy," he grumbled, "I ain't goin' nowhere."

Daisy's eyes flashed in anger. "Quit tryin' t' shove me away, Enos," she said, "Mr. Sills said you'd done moved out with your mom. What was I s'posed t' think?"

"I ain't got a ma' no more," he snapped, "I ain't got a pa', neither. Guess that makes me an orphan now don't it?"

"That's a piss poor way of lookin' at it. You got all o' us Dukes."

"What? Is Uncle Jesse gonna adopt me? The last thing I want is pity...and you're about the last person I want it from." He brushed past her and headed for the door.

His comment stung. "Tryin' t' be your friend ain't pity!"

"Go home, Daisy."

"How am I s'posed t' do that?"

He looked out at the drive, only then realizing that she was alone. "Well, how'd you get here in th' first place?"

"I hitched a ride in Mr. Sills truck."

"Then go on back an' tell him t' call Uncle Jesse t' pick ya' up," he said dismissively as he opened the screen door.

"What? No!" She grabbed the edge of the screen and held it open. "I ain't goin' nowhere 'till you sit down an' talk t' me!"

"You can sit all you like. I'm goin' t' bed. I spent yesterday walkin' home." He went inside and slammed the rarely used wooden door shut, bolting it behind him. As soon as he was inside, his cavalier attitude disappeared. He banged his head and fists against the door in frustration. He'd never been so nasty to anyone - let alone _Daisy_, but making her mad at him was the only way he knew to get her to leave.

"Enos Strate, you open this door up right now!"

Her words were muffled through the wood, but he could hear the tears in her voice and his conscience was screaming at him nearly as loud as she was.

"_Dang-it_, Daisy Duke...!" Enos unbolted the door and opened it just enough to see her. She stood, hands on her hips, glaring at him defiantly while the tears streamed down her cheeks. He hated himself for being the cause of it.

"Look, I'm sorry, Daisy. Just..._please_...I don't want you t' see me like this. ...And I can't stand t' see you cry," he added. "Now would ya' please leave?"

"I just wanna help."

"There ain't nothin' for you t' fix, Daisy, an' I ain't gonna bring you down with me by lettin' you try."

She held his gaze silently for a minute before whispering, "That's not fair, Enos."

"I'm sorry..." he answered, softly, and shut the door. He went back to his bedroom and lay down, thoroughly disgusted with himself. It was for the best though. She'd be fine.

The minutes ticked on, and he fell back into an exhausted sleep. Things his conscious mind hadn't taken time to notice swirled together, weaving a dream of sunshine and wildflowers...and Daisy.

_She stood in the sun, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders, catching the light. He'd never noticed how beautiful she was before, and when she turned towards him and smiled, the sadness inside him disappeared. Entranced, he reached out and caught a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers. She leaned closer and raised her hand to his face, gently tracing her fingers along his cheek, making his breath catch. The only time she'd ever touched him was in jest, mocking Amy, but this was different. Honest and open - a simple give and take between two souls as entwined as the ivy along the meadow fence._

_Deep within his heart, the flicker of a new emotion stirred, something that made him want to throw his arms around her and never let her go._

* * *

><p>Getting home proved to be the least of Daisy's problems that day. Not ten minutes after Enos had shut the door for the last time, she heard the sound of someone coming down the drive. She wasn't surprised when she saw Uncle Jesse's truck - it wouldn't have taken a genius for him to figure out what she'd done. What <em>did<em> surprise her was that it was Vance instead of her uncle who got out. He walked over to the porch and sat down beside her on the steps.

"Guess I'm in trouble, huh?" she asked.

Vance plucked a weed up from where it grew up beside him, absently stripping the leaves off. "Uncle Jesse was more worried about you gettin' crushed by the junk in Mr. Sill's truck." He threw the stem down and turned to her. "I'm real sorry t' hear about Enos leavin'."

"He ain't left."

"Really? Well that's great!"

She shook her head. "Not so much if he's just gonna try t' make me leave him alone," she complained. "I don't understand why he's bein' so ornery. There ain't never been nothin' we couldn't talk about."

Vance nodded, thinking of how much Daisy reminded him of his sister, Olivia, who was fourteen. Old enough that he sometimes forgot she was three years his junior, young enough to still not catch onto the subtleties of other's emotions.

"He's still hurtin', Daisy," he explained. "It's likely he doesn't know _what_ he should do. Give him time, two months ain't a lot for losin' his father." He paused and looked back at the closed door. "You two are pretty close, aren't you?'

She nodded.

"You care about him." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Maybe you oughta tell him that," Vance suggested. "It'd probably help him t' know it."

"He already knows that." Daisy got up from the porch and walked towards the truck. "Come on, let's go."

Vance followed after her, wondering if Enos really knew that or not.

* * *

><p>The knocking on the door woke Enos. His dream, as dreams so often do, faded and then disappeared as he opened his eyes, leaving behind only the feeling of having been happy. He wished he could remember what it was. The knock came again and he stalked back into the living room. It had to be afternoon by now, surely Daisy wasn't still waiting on the porch for him.<p>

"Dang-it, Daisy," he shouted through the door, "I told ya' t' go home!"

He pulled open the door and did a double take. It wasn't Daisy – it was Sheriff Harris.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Mr. Harris, sir," he apologized, "I thought you were Daisy."

Concern showed on the Sheriff's face as he took in Enos' ragged appearance. "So I heard," he told him. "T' be honest, I'm surprised t' find anyone here at all. Word's goin' around you an' your ma' left Hazzard." He didn't miss the flash of anger in Enos' eyes at the mention of his mother.

"Just her, sir. She, uh... dropped me off."

The Sheriff had a hunch that the dropping off was more of Enos escaping from a trip he didn't wish to take. "How far'd she get before you figured you wern't comin' back?" he asked, thinking it must have been quite a ways judging by Enos' grimy clothing.

"Sweetwater County, sir."

He looked back in surprise. "Helluva walk, son."

"Yes sir. It was."

"Well, I'm glad I found ya'. I meant t' give this to ya' at your pa's wake, but I got called away early and it slipped my mind." He handed the object to him.

Enos mumbled a 'thank you' to the Sheriff as he looked sadly down at the watch in his hand. The glass on the front was starred and milky where something had hit it, the hands only faintly visible behind it – stopped on 1:17. The thought ran unbidden through his mind that at 1:16, his father had still been alive. Amazingly the clasp was unbroken, and the leather strap only slightly charred at the edges. Butch Harris watched quietly as Enos fastened it around his own wrist.

"There's something I've been meaning t' talk with you about, Enos. You mind goin' for a drive with me?"

Focused on the watch, Enos had nearly forgotten the man was there. He looked back up, confused. "Uh...sir, I'm awful messy."

"How 'bout I give you five t' throw some different clothes on?"

Enos nodded. "I'll be just a minute."

He went back inside and returned shortly, looking slightly more like someone from the land of the living. Butch opened the passenger's side door for him to take a seat in the patrol car before going around to the driver's side.

"Sir," asked Enos, warily, as they pulled away from the house, "am I in trouble?"

Butch laughed kindly. "No, son, you're not in trouble. Something I think you ought t' see, though."

The sheriff drove them back towards Mill Road, turning right towards Hazzard. Instead of following it however, he stopped at Cedar Point and turned right again, heading into the hills. Several miles up, they turned left down another dirt road, then right again, deeper and deeper into the heart of moonshine territory. Enos, who knew these roads like the back of his hand, wondered where they could be going. No one set up back here as far as he knew, and anyone who did surely wouldn't be thrilled to see a police car around.

At last the Sheriff pulled off to the side of the road and motioned for Enos to get out.

"It's a bit of a walk, but I 'spect you could use some fresh air."

They walked through the woods without speaking, Enos following behind, still trying to figure out where they were going. Brush Creek ran through somewhere nearby, but other than that there was nothing up here. The woods angled downwards, and a few minutes later he heard the sound of water rushing over rocks and the woods thinned out into an old clearing, now grown up with briers and poison ivy. By the bank of the creek sat an old still; rusty, broken and long abandoned. The barrels had rotted away, leaving only the metal rings on the ground where they'd lain and the copper worm was so corroded that most people wouldn't have known what they were looking at.

Enos looked questioningly at the Sheriff. "I didn't know there was anything down here," he said. "Who's place was this?"

Butch glanced over at him. "This was _my_ father's still," he said, taking his hat off and sitting down on a large rock by the water.

"Your pa' was a _moon-shiner_?" Enos knew the man was on friendly terms with most of the people up here, including his pa', but he'd never thought to wonder why. That the Sheriff had grown up a moon-shiner's kid was the last thing he'd ever imagined.

"It's not somethin' I talk about a lot," he admitted.

"What happened? I mean, how'd you end up..."

"On the other side of th' law?" Butch offered.

"Yeah."

"Well now, fact is I almost didn't," he said. "I ran this still right along with him until a Federal Marshall shot him dead when I was seventeen."

Enos stared at him. "You mean he _killed_ him?"

The Sheriff nodded his head and continued. "Come late summer, he was up here by himself. I was s'posed t' be helpin' him, but I'd been to town and got home after he'd already left." His eyes took on a far-away look, reliving the night in his mind. "Th' Feds raided our still that night. We never did find out exactly what happened. They said my father shot first, and there were a couple spent cartridges by his body, but..." Butch shrugged.

"I'm...sorry," was all Enos could think to say.

Sheriff Harris gave him a slight smile. "It was a long time ago, Enos. I just wanted you to know where I'm comin' from. It took me a long time before I forgave myself for not being here. I kept thinking maybe with the two of us...maybe I woulda heard somethin' when he didn't... I don't know," he shrugged. "After he died, I couldn't even think of whiskey without getting' sick as a dog. All I wanted was t' get as far away from these hills as I could."

Enos sat down on the remains of the still's crumbled rock furnace. "I s'pose that's why my ma' left," he mused, throwing a stone out into the water. "She always hated it here."

"Everyone has their own way of dealin' with things."

"I don't think I've found mine, yet," said Enos, honestly.

"There's a lot of people who care about you, son," he said. "Don't push 'em away just cause you're afraid of hurtin' them. It'll do more damage than you know."

Minutes passed as they both sat in silence, with Enos tossing rocks out into the water and Butch wondering if he should bring up what Otis had talked to him about the last time he'd seen him.

"So you became a police officer," Enos said, suddenly.

He shook his head. "No... that really didn't cross my mind until later. I s'pose my father dyin' forced me to see the world for what it is, though. You've seen it, too, up here in th' hills with your pa'. Moonshinin's a rough life. When you lose someone so close to you, you look around at th' people you care about, and you 'd do just about anything to keep them safe," he said. "Problem is, you _can't_ protect the ones you love... not from up here."

"My pa' thought I should go to th' Police Academy."

Butch looked over at him, surprised Enos had brought up the subject himself. "Not quite sold on it, are ya'?"

Enos shrugged. "I don't know." He suddenly felt very young, talking about a future that a scant few months ago had seemed years away. "Don't you feel bad 'bout goin' after the people you grew up with?"

Butch smiled knowingly, it wasn't the first time he'd been asked that question. "Sure I do, when I have to...I ain't heartless, Enos - but I don't go _lookin'_ for trouble. Hell, son, everyone in Hazzard knew your pa'd been running shine up over the border for decades, and I knew him well enough that I could of staked him out an' caught him if I'd really wanted to. Sometimes you've got t' be selectively ignorant, but Otis knew if th' Feds ever caught up to him, I'd have t' do my duty an' bring him in."

Enos had never thought of it that way. The only law he'd really been familiar with was Deputy Ledbetter who had always been chasin' his pa', and the revenuers he'd always had to hide from.

"Maybe I'll think about it," said Enos.

"You might not know it, son, but took an awful lot of courage for your pa' t' keep you from learnin' to run a still." Butch had heard what some of the hill people had to say about Otis refusing to carry on the tradition. "There were people who thought he was a traitor - an' not a few of them his own kin. I can tell you, though, havin' lived both sides, that he was in th' right. Out of all the things a father worries about, havin' my kids grow up not knowin' life in these hills has been the greatest relief of all."

Enos thought of the Johnson kids and how his pa' had told him that little Davey was one of the lucky ones.

Sheriff Harris stood up, put his hat back on, and sighed. "There's one other thing I need t' talk to you about," he said, though his voice sounded as though he'd rather not. "I'm duty-bound t' report your ma' leavin', Enos."

Enos looked up at him worriedly. "What does that mean?"

"That means," explained Butch, "that if Protective Services starts pokin' around, you'd best make yourself scarce. They find you livin' out by yourself, they're gonna make you a ward of th' state 'till you're seventeen."

"I reckon I can take care of myself, sir," he assured him.

"That may be, but the state of Georgia ain't as open minded about it as I am," Butch replied. "I can give you 'till th' end of the summer before I call it in. Maybe your ma' will have a change of heart an' show up..."

"I doubt it," Enos muttered.

"...but the best thing that you can do is t' find someone to stay with until..."

"For two years!.?" That was just beyond all comprehension.

The Sheriff's eyes met his. "If you were to take your equivalency test instead of goin' back to school, the Academy will take you next fall at sixteen. You'd just need an address to put down."

The thought of never having to set foot in Hazzard High again was almost enough for Enos to seriously consider it.

"I'll think about it," he said instead.

The Sheriff lay his hand on Enos' shoulder. "I know I've thrown a lot at you today, son, an' that you're still hurtin' from what happened, and you still will for a long time yet." It was years before he'd felt like he'd reconciled himself with his own father's death. "Maybe some of it you ain't really ready to hear, but it's out there when you feel like you're able to deal with it."

The way the man talked, without sugar coating things, reminded Enos of all the heart to heart talks he'd had with his father. "I...appreciate it, Mr. Harris, I do." His voice broke as he spoke, "I miss talkin' to my pa'." He felt his tears coming, and gosh but he didn't want to cry in front of the Sheriff.

"He was awful proud of you, Enos," he said, gently. "I'm gonna go on back, take your time okay?"

Enos nodded as the Sheriff turned away and walked back into the woods. He sat back down on the rocks while the tears that had eluded him for the past six weeks found him at last - for the father he'd never see again, the mother that didn't care about him, and the uncertain future that promised to divide him forever from the life he'd always known.

* * *

><p>"Uncle Jesse said somethin' about mending the fence down off the south 40 this morning," Vance told Daisy as they entered the quiet kitchen. "You're libel to get an ear-full when he gets back, though."<p>

"Yeah, I know." She'd already resigned herself to getting at least that before she'd ever climbed into Arthur Sill's truck. "Thanks for pickin' me up, Vance."

"Hey, what're cousins for, huh?" he asked, kindly.

Daisy smiled sadly at him before leaving the kitchen, She went to her bedroom and closed the door quietly behind her. Kneeling down beside her bed, she reached though the hole in the side of her box springs until her fingers caught the top of the wooden cigar box she kept hidden there. She pulled it out and sat it on the floor in front of her.

There wasn't much inside; a necklace that belonged to her mother, a silver dollar she'd won in a school spelling bee, and the ring Enos had found by the side of the road in Tennessee and given to her. The rest were all pictures and she rummaged amongst them until she found the one she was looking for - a picture of herself and Enos just this last spring, his arm slung around her shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. His pa' had taken it after he'd finished second in the first race he'd ever run. She traced his face with her fingers, wishing more than anything she could see him smile again.

* * *

><p>The drive back to his house seemed shorter than the way up and neither Sheriff Harris nor Enos said more than a couple words until they turned up the last road. As they drove past the Sills' place and the yard filled with old tractors, tires, boards, blocks, and other junk, the Sheriff broke the silence.<p>

"I was talkin' t' Arthur Sills th' other day... He was tellin' me that race car you an your pa' fixed up is just sittin' there, rustin' in his yard. I gather he's of th' mind t' let you have it for some work around his house."

"I don't really feel like racin', sir," Enos said, bleakly. "I ain't old enough t' drive it anyhow," he reminded the lawman. "Couldn't even get it there t' race it if I wanted."

"Well, now... you're fifteen an' got your permit," said Butch, "if you don't go over th' speed limit, an' stay in Hazzard County, I'll make sure Rosco doesn't bother you about it." It wasn't a concession he'd normally make, but the boy needed some way to get around.

Enos looked over at him, confused. "But...wouldn't that be breakin' th' law, sir?"

Butch grinned at him. "Everyone's innocent until proven guilty," he said. "Don't give me or Deputy Coltrane a reason to pull you over, an' we won't ask t' see your license."

* * *

><p>The rest of July passed in a blur and gradually Enos fell into a pattern of doing more than sleeping most of the day away. A few days after he'd talked with the Sheriff, he sat on the front porch looking out across the drive, thinking that something was drastically wrong with the picture he was seeing. As bits and pieces of himself began to resurface slowly over the next week, the problem turned in his mind, springing back up to bother him randomly throughout the days that followed.<p>

When it finally hit him what was wrong, he found himself unsure as to why in the world it had taken so long for him to see it. His pa' had always kept the grass cut around the house. Now, at the end of summer, the wildflowers that had filled the yard earlier had gone to seed, their dried stalks rustling as the wind blew across them. Many were so tall that he could barely see the lane that led to the house.

It was for this reason that on Friday, the 26th of July, fifty-four days after that fateful, life-shattering night, Enos finally wandered out into the bright sunshine and down to the shed beyond the barn.

The heat was explosive inside the small metal building and the sweet smell of dried grass hung thick in the air. He grabbed the hand mower and dragged it out, pulling it behind him back up the hill to the house and cast a last, long look over the field in front of him before sighing and setting to work.

Enos worked through the rest of the afternoon, until his fair skin was blistered and raw and his head swam with nausea from the heat. Unaware of how close he was to making himself seriously ill, he pressed on, his mind for once at peace - focused on nothing but his physical labor. It was only the rain clouds rolling in from over the Blue Ridge Mountains and opening up above him that broke his concentration and saved him from collapsing from heat stroke.

He dropped the mower and stretched out on the grass, rain cascading in heavy sheets down upon him. The drops pelting him stung his sunburned skin, and the sudden decrease in body temperature made him shiver violently. For the first time in his life, he became keenly aware of his own mortality, and the rain mixed with his own tears as he thought of it beating down upon his father's grave where he lay still and cold beneath the ground. A thousand memories of the man besieged him, from piggy-back rides when he was a little boy to the last time he'd sat with him, watching the rain.

"Papa!" he screamed into the storm. "God, why?.! It ain't fair! I wasn't done with him, yet!"

Painfully, he rolled over, curling his knees up to his chest and wept until the heating shower moved on to the south, and the sun once again shone brightly above him. Exhausted, he left the mower where it lay and went to bed.

He slept through the rest of the day and late into the next morning, until a knock startled him awake. He stumbled to the door and couldn't help a faint smile at the sight of petite Mrs. Tizdale standing on the porch wearing her helmet, her motorcycle parked in front of the house.

"Mornin', Mrs. Tizdale," he said, pulling open the screen door. The postmistress looked more like a little old grandma who should be sitting on her porch knitting instead of gallivanting around delivering letters, but the woman had more than enough spirit to make up for her looks.

"Hey there, Enos. I got a letter here for ya'," she said, pulling an envelope from her bag. "It's...well, it's addressed to yer pa', but you'll need t' sign for it."

She held out a pen for him and flipped the letter over to where a green card was attached to the back. He signed it and after tearing off the card, she handed it back to him.

"You'd best get something on that sunburn," she said, peering up at him through her coke-bottle glasses. "A little soda paste'll make it feel better."

"Yes ma'am."

A sad smile crossed her face. "I'm sorry I never got up t' pay my respects t' yer pa', Enos. He was a good man."

He glanced away from her. "Yes ma'am, he was."

She nodded curtly and changed the subject. "You ready for school?"

"School?" Enos stared at her blankly.

"School starts Monday," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I ain't decided if I'm goin', yet."

"Now Enos," she told him sternly, "you got too good of a mind t' waste. You ain't gonna be doin' yer father proud by droppin' out."

Though he knew her advice was meant in kindness, he still bristled at the implication. "Thanks for the letter, Mrs. Tizdale," he said, taking a step back into the house.

"Not a problem, Enos," she replied, taking the hint to leave. "You take care of yourself, now."

"Yes, ma'am."

The letter sat on the table through the next day, with Enos casting dubious glances at it every time he passed by. Opening it himself would be to acknowledge the fact that the man whose name was on it was never coming back, and though he _knew_ it was so, he still couldn't bring himself to do it. It slowly ate away at him, keeping him from sleep.. Late into the night, he sat at the small window in his room, looking out across the dark landscape.

"_Lord,"_ he prayed, _"I ain't got a clue what I'm s'posed t' be doin'. If you could find it in yer heart t' help me, I'd be much obliged..."_

He took a deep breath and got up from the window. Taking the lantern, he wandered back into the the kitchen and picked up the envelope from off the table. It was from the Capitol City Savings & Loan and his hands were clammy as he tore open the end, slid out the white paper inside, and held it up to the light. The mortgage on the house was a month behind.

"Possum on a gum-bush," he whispered to himself. "Where th' heck am I s'posed t' get $117.66?"

Enos left the house at first light, needing time to think in a place that didn't remind him every waking minute of the past. It had rained heavily the night before and the clouds hung low and ominous in the sky, promising more of the same sooner than later. He took a shortcut through the woods to the west of the house, over to Cedar Point Road and walked down to where the old L & N trestle bridge stretched out across the swollen river.

Walking down to where the first support bent jutted out over the water, he climbed over the railing, hoping to conceal himself from passing cars. For Enos, who had a slight problem with heights, it was as far as he'd ever gone, but the ties stretched out yet another three feet on either side of the railing giving him plenty of room.

By sunrise, he'd come to terms with the letter, and as much as a large part of him didn't want to begin the slow and painful journey of moving past his father's death, there was only one way he knew to make enough money to keep the house. He missed racing, and more than that - he was _good_ at it.

He'd tossed the idea around in his head – reluctantly at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt a flicker of excitement inside him. The problem was the pot at the Hazzard dirt track was barely enough to keep him in tires, let alone catch him up on the mortgage. The Chickasaw County Speedway however was on the State Circuit, and if he could find a way to get there, the pot was $500 for first, $350 for second, and $200 for third.

He'd never raced against anyone but the boys he'd grown up with, but his pa' would have told him that the only way to know if he could do it was to try.

Lost in his thoughts, he stepped closer to the edge of the bridge and looked down over the swirling currents. His heart pounded a mile a minute and his head swam sickeningly with vertigo, but in the heat of that moment, the fear that normally would have held him back was superseded by the magnificent rush of feeling _alive_.

Daring himself onward, he sidestepped his way to the two foot wide plank at the top of the bent. The frame was necessarily wider than the bridge itself, extending out past the edge of the trestle another three and a half feet on either side. Arms outstretched, Enos walked slowly down its length, as though walking the plank off a pirate ship. He stopped a foot from the end to find himself surrounded on three sides by nothing but air, and in a sudden burst of terror realized he'd gone too far. Over a hundred feet below him, the river roared and thrashed as it passed under the bridge and the vibration of the water striking it carried up the frame and under his feet. Not knowing what to do, fearful that if he should try and go back he would trip and fall, Enos stood, paralyzed, above the raging Chattahoochee.

* * *

><p>The moment Uncle Jesse dropped her and Luke off at school, Daisy's heart broke. For the first time in as long as she could remember, there was no boy with dark brown hair and hazel eyes waiting for her by the door. She looked around, as though seeing the school anew for the first time, and felt distinctly out of place as other students stared at her, some whispering amongst themselves. As she passed a group of boys from Enos' class, Dewey Hogg reached out and grabbed her arm.<p>

"Hey, I seen yer boyfriend this mornin', 'bout t' jump off into th' Chattahoochee," he told her. "Reckon I didn't know he wanted t' see his pa' _that _bad."

The other boys laughed.

"What are you talkin' about?" Daisy demanded.

Dewey shrugged. "Saw him standin' out on th' edge of th' tressle bridge on the way t' school, way out past th' railin'."

"Gosh, Dewey, ya' think he actually jumped?" one of the other boys asked.

"I s'pose he ain't got nothin' better t' do," he replied. "My uncle, J.D., says his ma's done run off on him, and th' State's lookin' t' put him in th' orphan home. I'd sure jump if I's him."

Daisy stared at him in horror before turning and running back through the courtyard and down the now crowded front steps of Hazzard High. She cast a hurried glance around, trying to think of some way – _any_ way – to get herself up to the hills. There was only one person she could ask, and he wasn't here. Taking a last look at the school behind her, she ran down the street towards to the town square.

Cooter Davenport leaned his lawn chair back against the outside of Skeeter's Garage, and looked lovingly at the box of dough-nuts in his lap.

"Cooter!" Daisy yelled breathlessly as she ran towards him. "Cooter!"

He looked up, surprised. "Hey, Daisy-girl, what's wrong? Ain't you s'posed t' be in school right now?"

She leaned over to catch her breath, resting her hands on her knees. "Cooter, I need a favor."

"Uh... I'm guessin' you must be needin' it pretty bad," he said, concerned. "What's got in t' you?" Whatever it was had scared the dickens out of her. Cooter didn't think he'd ever seen her in such a state.

She looked him straight in the eye. "I need a ride."

"A ride t' _where_?"

"To th' old railroad bridge."

Cooter scratched his head. "You know how many railroad bridges there are around here?" he asked. "You're gonna have t' be a bit more specific than that."

"The one up by Enos'."

He narrowed his eyes at her, not wanting to get wrapped up between the two of them if trouble was brewing. "How come?"

"Cause Dewey Hogg just saw him 'bout t' jump off of it!"

Startled, Cooter stood up and tossed the box down into the chair. "Why din't ya' say so? Let's go, girl..."

* * *

><p>Enos had no way of knowing how long he'd stood there, unable to move, terrified that if he backed away his legs would betray him and he would stumble and hurl himself into the river below. It was anyone's guess as to how long would it be before he couldn't stand up at all. The worst part was that he knew everyone would think he'd jumped on purpose.<p>

_"I'm so stupid...,_" he muttered.

And _Daisy_...Daisy, who he'd driven away from him when all she wanted was to be there for him - she would think he'd killed himself. He thought about all the people he cared about, people who had always been there for him...Uncle Jesse, Luke, Cooter, hell even Amy he supposed in her own weird way - and then of those he'd lost, namely his father and Aunt Lavinia.

Except for Daisy, the scales seemed unbalanced, tilted in terms of depth towards the side of loss instead of life. How many others would he see move to that side of the scales? He didn't know if he could bear any more.

"Enos?"

He could even hear her voice, calling out to him.

"Enos? Enos! Oh my gosh, Enos!"

Bewildered, he realized at last that he actually _was_ hearing her voice. "Daisy?" he called, "is that really you?"

"I'm right here, Enos. I'm comin' out there."

"No!" he shouted. The last thing he wanted was for her to get stuck out here, too. "Just...just go get somebody..."

"Enos," she said, gently, her voice only a step behind him now. "Reach back and give me your hand."

"Dang-it, Daisy! I don't want anything t' happen t' you. Go back," he pleaded, "I can wait 'till someone else comes."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, a touch of exasperation coloring her words. She reached forward and took his hand in hers. "There's plenty of room. Just move your feet around until you're facing me."

Her grip tightened and he realized if he fell, she would fall, too. That thought alone turned the tables on his fear. Instead of _his_ life at stake, it became _hers_ and in a heartbeat he realized that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He moved his feet around until he faced her and taking both hands in his, walked slowly forwards as she led him back down the bent to the railing.

No sooner were they on the solid concrete of the bridge than Daisy's calm demeanor disappeared. Grabbing him by the arms she shook him, her face a mask of anger, fear, and relief.

"Enos Strate," she yelled, "don't you ever do that to me again!" "Do you hear me?"

"Daisy, I..."

"Do you know what I thought?" she cried. "I thought you were up here tryin' t'_ kill_ yourself!"

"Daisy..."

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again! Don't you..."

Not knowing what else to do, and needing to assure himself that she was real, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. He could still feel her crying softly, felt her sobs as she moved with them, as he stroked her hair.

"Daisy...don't cry," he whispered. Even as the words left him, he felt his own tears began, swept up in the relief of having her there with him and safe in his arms. "I'd never let anyone hurt you, Daisy...not even me."

She leaned back to look at him and brushed a tear from his cheek, giving him a strange feeling of deja vu. "It hurts when you won't talk t' me," she said, softly. "And it doesn't have t' be about nothin' at all. I just miss ya'."

"I've missed you, too," he told her, "an' that's th' truth of it. I just..."

He was about to say 'I just wanted to protect you' when he was reminded of what Sheriff Harris had told him - _"you can't protect the ones you love... not from up here"._ Standing there with Daisy, he thought that maybe he understood what the man had been trying to tell him. What could he do if someone tried to make trouble for any of the families he'd come to respect; the Dukes, Sills, Millers, Petersdorfs, McCullums, and Davenports...as well as so many others? Families who tried their best to live their lives without hurting anyone else. Up here in the hills, he was a nobody, not even a moon-shiner. He had no reputation outside of being his father's son. That would all change if he was a Deputy, and though he knew his life would be drastically different - and perhaps there would be those who even saw him as a traitor, the thought of being able to protect them..._to protect Daisy_...made it all seem worth it.

She watched him curiously, waiting for him to finish what he was going to say. Instead, he grinned down at her. "Daisy, what would you think of me goin' to the Police Academy?"

"You ain't gonna be a revenuer, are ya'?" she asked, worriedly.

"What? Heck no! Just 'cause you go to th' Academy don't mean you gotta be a revenuer," he assured her. "What if I was a Deputy with th' Sheriff's department here in Hazzard?"

She shrugged and grinned back at him, caught up in his own excitement. "Well, you'd be better than that idiot Ledbetter," she said. "Uncle Jesse said Sheriff Harris done give him th' boot a while back."

"Yeah, well, don't say anything about it, yet. I need t' talk to th' Sheriff first. He said somethin' about takin' some test to get outta goin' t' school."

"My lips are sealed," she laughed. "So, what are we doin'? I ain't never skipped th' first day of school before, an' I told Cooter t' just drop me off."

"Well," he sighed, "you can come with me t' talk to Mr. Sills about my race car."

Daisy's eyes widened. "You're gonna race again?"

He shot her a glance, he'd never heard her sound so happy about it. "Just keep a lid on _that_, too. I gotta find some way to make some money or th' orphan's home's gonna come lookin' for me."

"We'd bust ya' out, you know."

Enos stopped and turned towards her, thinking that she was teasing him, but the look on her face was anything but. "What d' ya' mean?"

"Don't be silly, Enos. Ain't any of us Dukes who'd let you stay one minute in an orphan's home."

Taking her hand in his, he laughed. "Come on, Daisy Mae. Let's go find my car."

* * *

><p><em>AN: The character of Otis Strate is lovingly dedicated to my father, RWT, who always took the time to listen. Miss you, Daddy..._


	6. Changes

A/N: *DNF = Did Not Finish

"Happy hour" (in racing) = the last practice session before a race, usually an hour long.

Lest anyone has forgotten their DOH history, in Luke's Love Story, Enos is third in points on the state circuit (I guess, since Amy Creevy wasn't on the state circuit), and it's mentioned that he's won the Hazzard Obstacle Derby the last 3 years. I figure that means he's a pretty darn good driver.

* * *

><p><em>Papa told me when I was young,<em>  
><em>come sit beside me, my only son.<em>  
><em>Listen closely to what I say,<em>  
><em>and if you do this it'll help you some sunny day...<em>

_Be a simple kind of man,_  
><em>be something you love and understand.<em>  
><em>Be a simple kind of man.<em>  
><em>Won't you do this for me son if you can?<br>-Lynyrd Skynyrd_

* * *

><p>November, 1967<p>

* * *

><p>Everything changes.<p>

Friends, family, seasons, likes, dislikes, life...death. Time is fluid, and though the bounds and limits of it are set, the matter that comprises it is dynamic. Like a single drop of water that causes a ripple in a vast ocean, so too can the absence of one soul from that time-line. In the old farmhouse on Mill Road, a young man who had experienced more than his fair share of those ripples since his father's death sat at the kitchen table, worrying over a book that proclaimed it was 'modern math made easy'.

Two months earlier, on the second Friday in September, the State of Georgia had come looking for fifteen year old Enos Strate, and it had only been by the grace of God that he'd gone out to the farm that day. A neighbor had directed the social worker to the Dukes, but Uncle Jesse (having adopted three of his siblings' children) had plenty of experience dealing with such matters. Full of coffee and homemade apple pie, their unexpected visitor returned to Atlanta - happily believing that Mrs. Strate had merely gone on an extended "business" trip and had left her son in the capable care of the Duke family until she returned.

After the close call, Uncle Jesse had managed to convince Enos that the best thing for him would be to stay on at the farm. He'd agreed, grudgingly at first, but since then he'd eventually settled in. For all practical purposes Enos was just another member of the family, earning his keep by dragging himself out of bed early to help with chores and unselfishly volunteering for anything else that needed doing around the house.

Daisy supposed he was more than eager to mend fences when the alternative was studying for the equivalency test he was scheduled to take in April after he turned sixteen.

* * *

><p>Enos rubbed his eyes and a guttural sigh escaped him, causing the girl standing by the stove to turn and give the back of his head a sympathetic smile. He lowered his head to the table, resting it against the pages.<p>

"Daisy, just shoot me."

"Oh Enos, it can't be that bad," she chided. "For goodness sakes, it's only Algebra."

He raised his head and spun around towards her. "But it don't _mean_ anything!" he complained, throwing his hands up in disgust. "Who _cares_ what "A" squared plus "B" squared equals?"

"That's not the point."

He leveled his eyes at her. "There _is_ no point... That was _my_ point." He looked away for a moment, confused, then shook his head. "I s'pose I'd better make good on the geometry part 'cause this is a lost cause."

"_You're_ a lost cause," she laughed.

"And what is this "pie"?" Enos continued, ignoring her jibe. He leaned over the back of his chair to look at her upside down, his dark hair falling away in short spikes. "Hey, Daisy," he said in a syrupy sweet voice, "...ya' know, _you_ make th' best pie..."

She grinned at his not so subtle request. "Flattery won't peel apples for me," she told him.

He sat back up and slammed the book. "Gimme some apples."

She shook her head. "Sorry, fresh out. You'll have to get some from the cellar. An' if I make a pie, I actually _want_ some this time."

"Luke's th' one who had two..."

Enos fell silent at the creak of the screen door as Uncle Jesse entered the kitchen. He nodded a solemn greeting to the man as he stood and picked up his book from the table.

"Mornin', Uncle Jesse."

"Hey there, Enos. How's th' studying comin'?"

Enos shrugged and looked down, his fingers nervously picking at the dog-eared corner of the textbook. "I'm not rightly sure I'm gonna cut it on th' math, sir."

Jesse patted him on the shoulder as he passed him by. "Oh now, I'm sure between Daisy's tutorin' an' a little hard work on your part it'll turn out just fine."

"I sure hope so, Uncle Jesse," he said with a sigh.

He lay his book at the end of the counter shared a last look with Daisy before heading outside. She watched him go, thinking about how much he'd changed since that day she'd found him perched on the edge of the trestle bridge above the Chattahoochee River.

Enos had never talked to her again about that day, nor what had gone through his mind as he stood expecting to fall to his death, but the change in him afterwards had been dramatic. He was withdrawn now – as if an impenetrable wall had been built between himself and everyone else he had ever cared about.

Daisy worried about him. Regardless of how much he outwardly seemed to be moving past the last summer, his eyes told a different story... and she knew him well enough to read them. He was kind and generous to a fault, but emotionally he was distant. The only person he was remotely his old self with was her and only when they were alone would he let down his guard. Daisy would lay awake at night, praying that someday she'd find the right words to say to make him better.

Enos walked around to the other side of the barn to where his rust red Mercury sat in the grass - probably peeling the paint and drying out the gaskets, he reckoned, even though it was finally cooling off now in the first week of November. He hopped up onto the trunk and lay back against the glass, forgetting about his quest for apples.

The sky was cloudless - the deep, azure blue of autumn before the first chilling winds of winter came. He closed his eyes, listening to the rustle of the leaves and smelling the musky scent of dried corn and hay from the field beyond him. The year was ending, and with it the only life he'd ever known had also been laid to rest. There were so many things he missed and every day it seemed something new from the past would awaken from its sleep to break his heart anew.

Time has a way of softening painful memories, and though he'd never made the connection between his mother leaving and his ever increasing insecurities, his sense of self worth had been left in the passenger's seat of that Hudson, venturing to destinations unknown with his mother. Late at night he would find himself at the window of the spare room he now called his, wondering where she was and what she was doing, and if maybe - _just maybe_ - he'd been a better son to her, she would have stayed.

He'd been scraping by on the mortgage on his parents' house over the last couple months with the meager winnings from racing, but he'd wound up with a DNF after getting tangled up in a late wreck in October, and had received one of those blamed letters from the bank again. The first race on the State Circuit wasn't until April 20th at the Choctaw County Raceway, right after he turned sixteen on the 2nd of the same month. In Hazzard, the last race of the season was coming up, and he barely had enough money to put gas in his car.

He patted the car's fender affectionately. "You'd best figure out how t' win a race one o' these days, Buddy-roe," he told it, "or I'm libel t' have t' put _your_ neck on th' choppin' block."

* * *

><p>The Saturday of the last race dawned with the promise of perfect weather. A gentle breeze blew across the track, carrying with it the acrid smell of gasoline and engine exhaust. Enos grinned as he pulled up alongside the seventh placed car. It was going to be a good day, he could <em>feel <em>it.

The last race of the season was a closed race, open to the top ten drivers with the highest points. The pot was slightly better as well, with $200 going to first, $150 to second, and $75 to third place. Enos had been running third in points before his DNF, but even with it he squeaked in at number eight. It wasn't a terribly long race, 100 laps on the half-mile loop.

As the green flag fell, he did his best to move up quickly through the field – cars at the end of the pack frequently gave up on winning early and decided to play chicken with each other instead, causing some spectacularly crowd-pleasing wrecks. Lap after lap ticked by until finally, with twenty laps to go, he'd made it out of the fray. There was only only one car between him and first place...the black Galaxie of Luke Duke.

Enos realized it would take a miracle to beat Luke, but he just _knew_ there was a cocky grin plastered across his face, and he was determined to wipe it off. He put his foot to the floor and hugged the insides of the curves, slowly inching his way up towards him a car length at a time. With three laps to go in the race, he was right on the Galaxie's back bumper.

He made a show of trying to get around, but catching Luke and passing him were two different things. Three laps wouldn't be enough time, and so he'd happily resolved himself to second place. All Luke had to do was to stick to the bottom of the track and Enos wouldn't have a chance, which was why Luke moving to the top in the middle of the last lap caught him by surprise. Enos, taking advantage of what he thought was a rare mistake, edged his car up beside Luke's, the pair of them racing towards the checkered flag. He was still back half a car length when at the last second Luke suddenly fell back, letting Enos cross the finish line in first place.

Enos drove to the bottom of the track, disbelief warring with fury, as the rest of the cars passed him by.

* * *

><p>Enos hadn't stuck around for any congratulations, and had even debated collecting the winnings at all, but by all rights the second place money was his and he couldn't afford not to take it. He couldn't think of a time he'd ever been so humiliated, and it had taken several hours of chucking rocks into the pond before he felt he could swallow his pride enough to go back to the farm. He'd never asked for anything from anyone, and now to have a race handed to him in front of half the county was more than he could stand. For the first time in his life, he thought he might just be glad to get away from Hazzard.<p>

It was dark by the time he pulled up to the house. The front door was closed against the night's chill, but a light shone through the kitchen window. He climbed the steps, opened the door, and gritted his teeth when he saw Luke sitting alone at the table.

Luke looked up when the screen door opened, an unconcerned expression on his face. "Where th' hell have _you_ been all day?"

Unspeaking, Enos tossed two twenty dollar bills and a ten on the table in front of Luke as he passed him by.

"What th' heck is this?" Luke asked, gathering up the money.

Enos took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it from the faucet. "Th' rest of your winnings," he said, without turning around.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Luke said, dismissively. "You'd best aplogize t' Daisy tomorrow, though. She made fried chicken just for you, and you ain't got th' grace t' show up for supper."

His back turned on Luke, Enos stared out the dark kitchen window above the sink, his blood beginning to boil. "Why'd you pull up?" he seethed.

Luke stood up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor as he pushed it back. "Now wait just a minute here," he started, his voice dangerously quiet. "Are you accusin' me of _throwin'_ that race?"

Enos spun around. "I ain't _accusin_' ya', Luke, I'm _tellin'_ ya... There ain't no way I coulda passed you in that last corner an' you know it. You had me beat fair an' square 'til you pulled up!"

"Why th' hell would I do that?" Luke shot back. "I ain't never been accused of cheatin' before an' I ain't gonna stand here an' listen t' _you _rattle on about it... An' I ain't takin' your money."

Luke flicked the twenty dollar bill closest to him back across the table at Enos which Enos promptly threw back at him.

"I ain't your charity case!" he fumed. "It ain't mine! I didn't win th' dad-gummed race!"

"Well I ain't takin' it!" Luke wadded it up and chucked it back at him.

"Fine!" Enos picked up the crumbled bill from the floor and the other thirty dollars from the table, opened the door to the wood stove, and chucked them in. "Th' heck with it!"

Luke ran over to the stove. "What th' hell! What are you? _Crazy_?.!" He opened the door, but the money was long gone, nothing but ash.

The yelling and subsequent clang of the stove door had roused Uncle Jesse from his bed. Neither teen had noticed him come in until he joined the conversation.

"What in tarnation is goin' on in here with you two?" he shouted, none too happy to have been woken up.

"Enos just threw $50 in th' stove!" Luke told him, still in shock.

Uncle Jesse turned towards Enos, confused. For the life of him, he couldn't remember having ever seen the boy so angry. In fact, he was hard-pressed to think of a time when he'd ever seen Enos angry at all.

Enos' eyes never left Luke. "Talk t' Luke about it, Uncle Jesse," he said, gesturing at the older boy. "He threw th' race."

With that Enos stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the screen door against the side of the house on the way out.

Jesse turned to Luke. "Did you do what he says you did?

"Did I do what?" asked Luke, the false innocence in his tone a red flag to his uncle, telling him all he needed to know.

"Don't play dumb with me," said Uncle Jesse. "Did ya' let him win?"

Luke battled with the truth for a moment before taking a deep breath and running his hand nervously through his hair. "He needs th' money more than I do, Uncle Jesse."

Jesse rubbed a weathered hand over his tired eyes and sighed. The whole situation deserved a longer going over with Luke than the late night afforded. "I appreciate your wantin' t' help him out, son, but robbing a man of his pride ain't th' way t' go about it."

"I suppose..."

"Luke," the older man came over to his nephew and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "We ain't got much, but we've always looked after each other. If something was to have happened t' me instead of Otis, I know he would've done right by th' three of you. I ain't gonna let Enos lose nothin' that's his for lack of money." Jesse looked out past the screen-door, into the dark farmyard. "He ain't quite sure of himself anymore, Luke, an' I've gotta feelin' your "helpin'" is gonna take him more time than you think t' get over. I reckon you wouldn't be too keen on someone throwin' a race for you neither."

Uncle Jesse's last statement resonated with the young Duke. Putting himself in Enos' place, Luke realized for the first time the momentousness of what he'd done. He didn't know if he'd be able to look anyone in the eye again if it were him. He'd humiliated the kid in front of nearly the entire county.

"I s'pose not, Uncle Jesse."

"You'd best get yourself out there an' try t' straighten things out."

"Yes, sir." With a sigh, Luke turned and went outside.

Luke was prepared for anger, yelling...hell, maybe Enos would even get up the nerve to throw a punch at him. For once, he knew he'd deserve it. What he didn't expect was the calm, quiet, teenager sitting on the hood of his race car, staring up at the stars. Luke came up and leaned against the car's grill, unsure of what to say.

"Look, I'm...real sorry, Enos. I really am. I just...ya' know, I knew you needed th' money more than me. Dang, Enos, you know how I am... I get an idea into my head an' I just can't see to either side of it."

Luke waited, expecting some response, but Enos said nothing, continuing his quiet star-gazing as though he'd never been spoken to. This was the Enos that Luke was more accustomed to though - his previous outburst had been an exception to the rule. It drove Luke batty, especially lately, how Enos seemed to be off in his own little la-la land half the time. He knew his pa' dying had been hard on him, but sometimes he thought the kid might actually be going squirrelly.

"Well anyhow," Luke shrugged, "that's all I've got t' say I guess...since you don't seem t' be talkin' to me no more." He turned to go back to the house, but had only taken a few steps when Enos spoke.

"I'm real sorry, Luke."

Luke turned back around to find Enos staring solemnly at him. "What in th' world do _you_ got t' be sorry for?" he asked him.

Enos shook his head. "I shouldn't've kicked up such a fuss back there. Warn't no call for me t' be like that to ya', an' I'm sorry."

"You had every right t' be. Heck, I wouldn't of blamed ya' if you'd thrown a punch or two at me."

"I reckon you know I'd never do _that_," he said, slightly surprised. "'Sides, you know how Uncle Jesse feels about fightin'." Of course, Uncle Jesse wasn't the only reason Enos didn't start fights. His coordination was sub-par even on the best of days, and he wasn't anxious to get taken down, much less by Luke. "You've always been a good friend t' me, an' I'm mighty obliged you'd wanna help me, but..."

"Good grief, Enos!" Luke couldn't stand to be patronized. "I ain't never treated you much better than an obnoxious little brother. You ain't got t' go sayin' stuff like that."

Enos shrugged. "You've always been like family t' me, Luke," he admitted, quietly. "Reckon I've never minded bein' treated like your little brother."

The two stood in silence, looking out into the night. Luke thought back over the years, of all the days Enos had spent with them while his pa' was running shine. He'd practically grown up with them...no...he _had_ grown up with them. In truth, Luke had always thought of Enos as just another cousin, an albeit slightly odd and sometimes irritating one, but family nonetheless. He'd never really stopped to think about how Enos felt about_ them_, but living up in the hills without anyone but his parents must have been a lonely existence. Now he, Bo, Uncle Jesse, and Daisy were all Enos had left.

"I would've been happy with second," Enos said, interrupting Luke's thoughts.

"You know I'd take it back if I could."

Enos regarded him warily for a moment. "I'd be much obliged if ya' never helped me again...least not like that."

Luke nodded. "I...," he began, but then hesitated and instead spit into the palm of his right hand and held it out to Enos who did the same.

"You've got yourself a promise," said Luke, shaking Enos' hand and sealing the ridge-runner vow.

It was to be a promise that Luke would never fail to keep, and one that Enos would be reminded of every time his police cruiser took a dunk in Hazzard pond.

* * *

><p>The winter of 1967 came and went and before long April was upon them. For Enos, his collision course with fate had finally arrived - his one way ticket out of the hills resting on the results of the high school equivalency test he'd taken on the first Friday of that month. He wouldn't know if he'd passed or not until the testing center in Atlanta mailed him his scores though. He thought he'd done marginally well, but as the two week mark rolled by without any news he'd begun to get a bad feeling about it.<p>

Today though... Today was _different_. It was April 20th, and Enos' first race on the state dirt-track circuit. Shortly after breakfast, he hopped into his car and began the hour and a half drive up north to the Choctaw County Raceway. The race wasn't until 1:00 pm, but 10:00am to 11:00am was 'happy hour', and since he'd never driven the track before he figured a little practice wouldn't be a bad thing.

He was by himself only because he hadn't told anyone, save Cooter, that he'd entered the race, and the young mechanic knowing had been inevitable since Enos hadn't had the slightest idea of how to go about registering for it in the first place. It wasn't that he didn't want the company, more that he had no idea what to expect. Having everyone seeing him dragging up the rear of the field wasn't on his top ten list.

Just past Sand Creek Road, a rustling sound in the back floor-board caught his attention. He tried to look over the back of the front bench seat, but couldn't see anything and still keep the car between the ditches. Thinking that somehow a raccoon or squirrel must have gotten into the car, he pulled over to the side of road and got out. There was an old tarp wadded up in the back that he used for a rain cover. Carefully he pulled it out, expecting to see a furry animal run out from under it. Instead a girl with messy brown hair and hazel eyes grinned up at him.

"Daisy Duke!" he shouted. "What th' heck are you doin' here? Uncle Jesse's gonna tan your hide!"

Daisy pulled herself up and climbed out of the car. "Me? _I'm_ not th' one who's been keepin' secrets from everyone," she answered, indignantly. "How come you didn't tell me you were racin' today?"

"Don't get all riled up, I didn't tell _anyone _I's racin' today. How th' thunder did _you_ find out?'

She smiled sweetly up at him. "'Cause I _know_ you...and I saw th' registration form in your glove compartment the other day."

Enos scowled at her, unsurprised. "Your snoopin's gonna get you in trouble one of these days..."

"I was just lookin' for more of Amy's love letters," she teased.

"Dang it, Daisy!" He gave her a half-hearted shove which only made her start laughing at him.

Earlier that week he'd gone into town to check the mail, hoping to get the results of his test, but the only thing in the box had been a letter from Amy McCullum. Not terribly interested in what she had to say, he'd stuck it in his glove box where Daisy had found it the next day and read it to him..._aloud_... much to his embarrassment.

"You oughta keep your personal stuff in a different place," she admonished him.

"It _wasn't_ personal!" he exclaimed, blushing furiously. "not on _my _end anyways."

Daisy couldn't help but push him just a bit further. "Uh huh. You best watch out, Sugar, I hear she's already picked out her wedding dress."

He gave her a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. "Did you stow away in my car for a reason, or are ya' just here t' poke fun at me?"

Daisy flashed him a bright smile. "I wanted t' see you race, of course. Why on earth didn't you tell anyone you were racing today?"

Enos looked away from her and began to pick nervously at the peeling paint on the roof of the car. "Cause I ain't never done this before, Daisy," he said, quietly. "What if I can't keep up? I'm just a kid from th' sticks who's barely got enough money t' keep my car _runnin_', much less compete with some of th' big names out there." He turned back to her, excitement evident in his eyes despite his own lack of confidence. "Did ya' know Cale Yarborough's actually raced at th' Choctaw County Speedway?"

"Oh Enos," she said, brushing his cynicism aside, "I'm sure you'll do fine. Why, you're th' best driver in all of Hazzard County!"

He shot her a disbelieving glance, though inwardly his heart never failed to swell with pride to hear her brag on him. "Shucks, Daisy, I'm hardly _that..._ but thanks for sayin' it."

"I ain't just sayin' it," she protested, "your car just needs a little TLC an' you'd beat 'em all."

He laughed. "I'm afraid you washin' it's probably all it's gonna get," he admitted. "Hey, listen Daisy, I gotta get goin'."

"You ain't gonna take me back home, are ya'?" she asked, worried that he might actually want to be alone after all.

He frowned, wondering when they'd fallen so far apart that she'd even have to ask him that. He knew it was his own fault, a throwback to him trying so hard to push her away after his father had died. From the beginning it had been in vain, Daisy was the one person in all the world other than his pa' who'd understood him, and to cast her off was like trying to cut a piece from himself. He supposed it hadn't been like him not to tell her about the race. They'd never kept things from each other before.

Leaning towards her, he caught a lock of her hair and gave it a playful tug. "No, I'd rather you come," he said, more seriously than she'd expected. "I always try harder when you're watchin' me."

Her eyes met his briefly before she turned and got into the car – quickly, but not quickly enough to hide her pleased surprise and the blush that crossed her cheeks at his unexpected admission. A strange feeling stole through him, as though for an instant there was something pivotal between them that he wasn't grasping. The same nameless and undefined quality that had colored all his thoughts of the girl since that day together on the bridge.

"Come on slow-poke!" she called back at him. "I thought you needed t' get movin'."

He shook his head, dismissing his thoughts, and climbed in after her.

* * *

><p>The Choctaw County Speedway made the Hazzard track look like a child's playground. Instead of stacks of tires and hay bales for the track boundaries, the three-quarter mile oval was surrounded by pristine four foot high concrete barriers, and the track itself was groomed so meticulously that Enos swore he could see the sun actually reflecting off the hardpack. His hands were sweaty on the wheel as he waited for the cars already on the track to pass him by so he could pull off of pit road and enter the practice field.<p>

The first turn threw him for a loop – it loomed ahead, not flat like the ones at Hazzard, but banked at such a degree that from his perspective it seemed to rise at an unnatural angle out into the air. For a long second he second-guessed himself, wondering what in the world he'd gotten himself into, but the moment passed as he remembered something his pa' had told him, not that very long ago...

As the story went, his father had been running from the local police in southern Tennessee, down Highway 315, when he saw they'd organized a roadblock up ahead of him. Hemmed in front and back, Otis Strate's eyes had lit up as he described the highway, with its sloping rise to one side and the other a sheer drop-off into ridge-runner oblivion.

"What did you do, pa'? How'd you get past 'em?" Enos had asked, enraptured by hearing the tale as much as his father had been in the telling of it.

"I gunned it an' went straight up th' hill around 'em, just like at one of them fancy racetracks," Otis had chuckled. "Poor fellas, by th' time they picked their chins up offa th' ground, I was halfway back t' Hazzard County."

Enos set his sights on the banked curve ahead and sped up. He entered it doing nearly 95 and the car shook and shimmied, but hugged the track, tilting his perspective of the straightaway ahead until, almost as quickly as it had begun, he was through. He had no time to gather his bearings – the track had three more turns just like the first.

It had taken a good twenty laps before he was comfortable going full speed around the banked turns, and he would have liked to have had more time to perfect them. As it was, he supposed he'd just have to put his foot in it and hang on for dear life. The yellow flag waved, signaling the end of the practice session, and Enos drove his car into the pits, weary in both body and mind.

Like the track, the pits were a horse of a different color as well, set up behind a short wall separating them from the track. Enos felt wholly out of place to find that several drivers had pit crews, spotters, and sponsors. Disheartened, he pulled the Mercury into pit stall number 26, his designated place in the field of 32 cars, and climbed out to find Daisy beaming at him.

"Gosh, Enos," she said, animatedly, "can you believe this place?.! Why it makes Hazzard's track look plain awful!"

He cast a doubtful glance at her as he removed his helmet, but said nothing. Instead he took a seat against the pit wall, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

Daisy followed, sitting down beside him. "Hey...you alright?"

He opened his eyes and looked over at her. "I tell ya', Daisy, it was takin' everything I had t' keep it on th' track in them corners. I'm plum tuckered."

"I thought ya' did great! You know, I read somewhere that lots of drivers lift weights t' keep them from gettin' worn out when they race."

"So you think I oughta work out?" he asked her, amused. "I don't think so."

Daisy shrugged. "I was just sayin'. They'll probably make ya' when you go to th' Academy."

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

Enos fell silent and Daisy doodled absently in the dirt beside her. Several minutes passed before she noticed that he was leaning unusually heavy against her. She turned to look at him and laughed softly. He _must_ have been tired, he was fast asleep. As she angled herself into a more comfortable position, his head dropped to rest on her shoulder. He sighed deeply and was still.

Daisy's mind drifted, lost in the past. How old had she been when she'd met him? Surely no more than two or three, too young for her to remember a time without him around. His visits were only occasional at first, whenever his mother was too busy to be bothered with him and had sent him to stay with Aunt Lavinia during a run. By the time Daisy was six however, the bootlegging business had picked up, and Enos had become a regular fixture at the Duke farm.

At only fourteen, Daisy had already had more adventures than some people had their entire lives, and largely due to the boy beside her. He was hardly ever the instigator of their escapades, but being around him gave her a confidence she didn't know that she would have if left to her own devices.

For the last six months, she'd tried valiantly to keep the thought of him leaving out of her mind. But sitting beside him now, with his head resting warmly against her, a future without him in it seemed unbearably bleak and lonely. She willed him to stay asleep, just for a little longer. What would she tell him if he woke and saw her tears? That she already missed him horribly?

"You're gonna go off to Atlanta an' forget all about me, Enos Strate," she whispered. "You just watch."

Time passed, and eventually the PA system came on with an ear-splitting whine, announcing the 15 minute warning until the race began and directing the drivers to their cars.

Enos awoke with a start to find his face buried in Daisy's hair. "Gosh, I'm sorry, Daisy," he apologized, sitting up, "I didn't mean t' fall asleep on ya'. You shoulda woken me up."

"Oh Enos, you know if you'd been botherin' me I would've. You were only out for a minute."

"A minute?" he asked, sparing a glance at his watch. "Practice was over nearly two hours ago!"

"Guess I lost track of time." She stood, holding her hand out to Enos who rolled his eyes at her but took it anyway.

"That'd explain why I've got this awful crick in my neck," he said, climbing into the car and sitting on the window frame of the Mercury.

"An' why you're a pain in th' rear end," she muttered.

He turned around and grinned at her. "I heard that," he said. "Hey, hand me my helmet."

Daisy picked up his helmet where it still rested by the pit wall and walked back over to him. Instead of handing it to him, she sat it on the roof of his car and before she could think long enough to stop herself, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

He stared back at her, a bemused expression on his face. "What was _that _for?" he asked.

"For luck, of course," she answered, nonchalantly.

"You'd be better off kissin' my car than me," he laughed. "It's th' one I'm worried about."

Daisy, happy to oblige, planted a second kiss on the Merc's front windshield as Enos strapped on his helmet and slid into the car. The engine started with a comforting roar and with a last glance between them, he took off out of the pits.

From that day on, he never ceased to wonder which kiss had held the magic, his or his car's. It was the only explanation he could come up with for how he won the race.

* * *

><p>The following Monday, Enos headed into town. He needed to check the mail and he figured he'd surprise Daisy with a ride home instead of making her catch the bus. The mail was a bust, so he headed over to the high school.<p>

He walked up the stairs to the front door and leaned against the brick to the right of the archway where Daisy would be coming out and waited for the bell to ring. It didn't take long before a steady stream of students erupted from the door beside him. After a few minutes the crowd died down but, with no Daisy, Enos began to worry that he'd somehow missed her as she'd passed by him. The minutes ticked on, still with no sign of her, and he was just about to give up and head back to the farm when the door opened again and Daisy walked through...with Darcy Kincaid hovering over her.

Darcy was one of those guys that Enos supposed every school was afflicted with. At sixteen, he looked like the surfers you saw in magazines - what with his blond hair, blue eyes, and overly bright smile. Worse yet was that he _knew_ it. There wasn't a pretty girl around that Darcy hadn't tried to lay claim to, and Enos bristled at seeing him with Daisy...she was only fourteen, after all.

"Daisy."

Daisy spun around, surprised to hear her name. "Enos!" she cried, happily, running back up the stairs.

She'd been trying to shake Darcy ever since lunch break the previous Friday. He always seemed to be in the same place as she was and his tendency to invade her personal space grated on her nerves. Hoping to get rid of him, she threw her arms around Enos, hugging him tight.

Enos, instinctively understanding her actions, put his own arms around the girl, drawing her closer. Her face buried against his chest, Daisy missed the disgruntled look that crossed Darcy's face and the smug grin that Enos flashed him in return.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Daisy," said Darcy.

She let Enos go and turned around. "Oh, okay, Darcy. I'll see ya'." Together they watched as he made his way sullenly down the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

"He givin' ya' trouble?" Enos finally asked.

She waved her hand dismissively in Darcy's direction. "He's alright," she said, "just annoying. He has the same schedule as me so we keep running into each other. What are you doin' here, anyways?"

"Checkin' my mail."

"Anything?"

"Nope," he sighed. "Come on, let's get out of here."

As they turned off Mill Road onto the long driveway of the Duke farm, Enos pulled over so Daisy could check the mailbox. She opened it up and removed a large brown envelope. Flipping it over, she knew exactly what it must be.

"Who's that from?" asked Enos.

"Hmm...Georgia Department of Education."

Enos put the car in park, his heart pounding. He'd forgotten he'd put down the Duke's address instead of his own when he'd registered for the test.

Daisy waited for him to say something, but he just sat there staring at her like a deer caught in headlights. "You want me t' open it?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he whispered, "what if I didn't pass?"

"Only one way to find out." She opened the back flap and took out the sheet of paper inside, studying it briefly before handing it to Enos.

He read over it, then looked back up at her.

"Told ya' you'd pass."

* * *

><p>On a dismal, overcast day in late August, Enos loaded his meager collection of personal items into a duffel bag and threw it into the trunk of his car. Classes at the Police Academy in Atlanta started the coming Monday and, nervous as he was about leaving Hazzard, it was with not a little relief that the next three years of his life were already planned out. For a kid who'd spent the previous year of his life surviving moment to moment it seemed, it was a welcome change of pace.<p>

He hadn't known what to say when the time came to leave. He'd never been good with good-byes, possibly because he'd never gone much of anywhere, or perhaps because all the people he'd loved who'd left had never been there to say it themselves. Cursory hugs and hand-shakes over, the exchange between himself and Daisy had seemed oddly unnatural and strained. He supposed she wasn't much better at good-bye than he was.

For Daisy, the sound of the closing screen door hitting the frame tore through her as though it had been a bullet aimed at her heart. As Bo, Luke, and Uncle Jesse filtered out of the kitchen back towards the living room, she could only stand motionless, staring at the door, until after what seemed like ages she was able to move again. She ran to the door and pulled it open, expecting to be too late and find him already gone. Instead he stood waiting, staring up at her from beside his car, as though he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Enos...wait!" she cried, running down the steps. She stopped in front of him, not knowing exactly what she should say, but needing to say something more than just 'good-bye'. Finally she said simply, "I'm gonna miss you."

Raising his hand to her face, he gently traced the tears that slipped down her cheeks. He smiled down sadly at her, and she thought she caught a glimpse of tears in his own eyes before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"I'm gonna miss you, too, Daisy Mae."


	7. Edge of Seventeen, Part 1

_A/N: Warning: Brief mention of underage drinking._

* * *

><p><em>"He was no more than a baby then.<br>Well he seemed broken hearted -  
>something within him,<br>that moment that I first laid eyes on him,  
>all alone on the edge of... seventeen."<br>-Stevie Nicks_

* * *

><p>August, 1969<p>

* * *

><p>There was nothing spectacular about the letter - just a simple piece of notebook paper, although it's frayed edges and several creases belied just how many times Enos had actually reread it. It was filled with what some might consider mundane details of life in the country, but in the bustling metropolis of Atlanta, Georgia, it was a tiny island of refuge. It was about <em>home<em>...and it was written by _her._

The reason as to why the last part made a difference didn't cross his mind, though he would have hesitantly admitted that it did. If Luke or Uncle Jesse had penned the note, it would be neatly tucked into its envelope and stowed safely away in his desk drawer along with the others he'd received.

Never having been anywhere besides Hazzard, Daisy had never before felt the need to write him a letter. To Enos, the written words were like discovering another part of her, and having something of Daisy there with him- even an inanimate letter, made him feel better all the same. He brushed his finger idly over her signature before being suddenly struck upside the head with a pillow, courtesy of his Academy roommate, Dewey Wilkes.

"Hey Strate, you gonna read that letter again or y' actually gonna go an' see th' girl?"

"Can't, Dewey. I ain't got extra gas money 'till after that race over in Winder."

By all rights he should be going home today. It was the last Friday of the summer semester and classes for the fall wouldn't start until the Tuesday after next (the Monday before being Labor Day), but going to school and trying to make a living racing on the side hadn't been going quite as well as he'd envisioned it. The book learning came easy enough to him, but Saturdays found him on the nearest dirt track trying to earn mortgage money instead of practicing drills and honing his marksmanship skills as he should be doing. He had relatively little free time, which was just as well since that was when his conscience would remind him that he hadn't been home since Christmas and in all likelihood wouldn't be going back until the next one.

With effort, Enos pulled his thoughts back to the present.

"...an' you're gonna be mighty broke if ya' don't place in it," Dewey was saying. "Anyways, me an' Jeb are goin' out t'night. You comin'?"

"I ain't old enough t' drink," Enos reminded him, though it went without saying since Dewey himself was only eighteen.

Dewey laughed. "Well, we ain't either, but that ain't stoppin' us."

"That's okay, Dewey," he sighed, "I reckon I'll pass."

"I figured ya' would. That's why me an' Jeb have a proposition for ya'. If don't mind drivin' my car th' two hours up to Hazzard tomorrow mornin', we'll pay for th' gas and drop you off on th' way."

Enos shot the older boy a wary look. "Ain't that aidin' and abettin'? Me drivin' so y'all can go out paintin' th' town tonight?"

Dewey regarded him for a moment with a look of mock indignation. "I like t' think of it as you doin' your civic duty an' helpin' th' helpless," he offered, innocently, "...which we will be by tomorrow mornin'. You in?"

Enos grinned. He couldn't very well pass up a free trip home. "Yeah, I'm in."

* * *

><p>Daisy watched Bo from the corner of her eye as she cleared away the breakfast dishes. The ten year old had hung back this morning, sitting solemnly at the table and nibbling slowly at a piece of toast. She tried her best not to laugh and embarrass him, wondering what could be so pressing in the young boy's life that he would be wearing so grave a look on his face - and on a sunny Saturday morning at that. Whatever it was, he obviously didn't want to discuss it around their uncle.<p>

"Well," said Uncle Jesse, rising at last from his chair, "I best be seein' t' that fence post. Bo, hurry up there an' get to yer chores."

"Yes sir."

Daisy waited until he was out the door before turning to Bo. "Alright, what's wrong with you this mornin'?"

He glanced around as though conspiring in some secret plot. "Daisy, you gotta help me," he whispered.

She fought back a grin at his expression, Bo tended to be a bit overly dramatic at times and over the most benign of subjects. "What with?"

"You gotta trade me one of your notebooks for one of mine...please?" He pointed to the stack of notebooks sitting on the end of the counter.

"What in the world for?" she asked, confused. "What's wrong with the ones you've got?"

"Buck Costner's pa' got him _college_ ruled paper," he explained, "an all mine are them baby-lined ones."

Laughing, Daisy ruffled his blond locks while he batted her hand away. "You mean t' tell me this is all about paper?"

"Quit laughin' at me, it ain't funny!"

"Oh, Bo!" she chided, "It ain't that big of a deal."

"Well it is t' me... I bet him a quarter that I'd have one, too, when I came back t' class on Monday."

Daisy fixed him with a stern expression. "You know how Uncle Jesse feels about bettin'." She went over to where the notebooks in question were stacked, picked up one, and tore out several sheets. "Here, I'll give you a couple pages, but I ain't tradin' notebooks with you 'cause they're already written in. 'Sides, you ain't s'posed to have college ruled paper 'till sixth grade."

"Fine," he said, sullenly, snatching the pages from her hand and headed for his room.

"You'd best get to doin' your chores before Uncle Jesse comes back in lookin' for you!" Daisy called after him as he disappeared around the corner and into the hallway. Shaking her head, she turned back to the kitchen, wishing that she was ten again and had nothing more to worry about that what kind of paper to take to school.

_"Ten...what had she been doing at ten?_" she mused as she picked the notebooks up from the counter and carried them to her room. Most likely getting into some scrape or another, and most likely not alone. She smiled wistfully, remembering, as she unzipped her school bag and dumped the notebooks in so they wouldn't be forgotten on Monday morning.

School had begun the previous week and already it was shaping up to be the worst year ever. Outwardly she played the part of the happy high school sophomore, not wishing to alert Uncle Jesse or Luke that anything might be amiss in her life. There had been a time when she'd loved school - when she'd waited impatiently for the end of summer vacation and the start of a new year. Those days were over now, and though she'd made good friends over the last two years, a twinge of sadness always met her at the front door of the school building where a boy with hazel eyes had always waited for her.

She pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and felt along the inside edge until her fingers closed around the item hidden there - a single piece of white notebook paper, its edges worn and dog-eared though it had only been written two months before. With care, she unfolded it and looked it over, her eyes taking in the block lettering which, while not necessarily neat, was comforting in its familiarity. Reading it word for word was unnecessary - she knew every line by heart.

Daisy supposed Enos would think it silly to know she held it so dear - there was nothing special about the letter itself except that it had been addressed to her and not the Duke family collectively like the others he'd sent. The subject was rather depressing, seeing as how he was merely explaining why he wouldn't be able to come and visit until Christmas, and she had silently cursed his race car, knowing it was the cause of it.

All that was what it was and nothing else, but it was his last sentence that made her fish the letter out of the drawer time, and time, and time again. It ended simply:

_"I miss you. -Enos"_

It always made her smile, knowing that he was thinking of her - or at least he _had_ been when he'd written the letter. And why wouldn't he? Weren't they still best friends, after all? Yet with every letter that arrived, her pulse would race and her hands would sweat nervously as she opened it, fearing it would be the letter she dreaded - the one where he told her all about some wonderful girl he'd met in Atlanta...and unknowingly break her heart.

She shook her head, bringing her mind back into the here and now. Wherever Enos was or what he was doing right now, life went on and the wash wasn't going to hang itself. Stashing the letter safely back in the drawer, she picked up the wicker basket of damp clothes she'd washed earlier and headed outside to hang them up.

The leaves on the porch crunched under her feet, and she kicked them towards the edge as she walked. It would need to be swept soon. The temperature was overly warm, in the high 80's again that day, but the winds held a promise of fall as they blew north out of the Blue Ridge Mountains, caressing the land in gusts that brought a chill into the heat of mid-morning.

Daisy dropped the basket beside the clothesline and walked through the yard and around the north end of the house which faced the drive that led from the farm back up to Mill Road. She took a seat in the grass. leaned back against the whitewashed farmhouse, and shut her eyes. The wind whipped her hair across over her face, blotting out the bright sun in a dancing pattern of reds and blacks behind her closed lids as she thought of the coming fall - her favorite time of year, and of hay rides and the Fall Festival on the town square...of carving pumpkins and picking apples. The more she thought, the more an overwhelming sense of loneliness crept over her. It was all wrong - off kilter, as though everything that brought her happiness was marred by the fact that Enos would not be there to share it with her.

A sob escaped her before she could stop it, and she opened her eyes, pulling the hair out of her face. "Oh stop it, Daisy, you're being ridiculous," she scolded herself.

Determined to finish her chores instead of sitting feeling sorry for herself, she stood up and turned back towards the clothesline when her eyes caught sight of a car barreling down Mill Road, churning the dust of the hardpack up behind it. As she watched, a blue Mustang coupe came to a skidding stop at the top of the drive, staying only a moment before pealing out and throwing more dust up as it headed off towards Hazzard.

_"If that's Ms. Tizdale_," thought Daisy,_ "she's really gotta start taking it easy..."_

It was a fair piece up to the end of the driveway, and Daisy began the walk to check the mail hoping the dust would clear by the time she got there. She'd barely stepped off the grass before she noticed in the distance someone walking down the lane. Tall and lanky... and her feet took off running a split second before her mind registered that there was only one person it could be.

"Enos!"

If he hadn't of stopped and braced himself, she might have tackled him with the force at which she met him and threw her arms around him. Enos wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up off the ground, spinning her around before setting her back down.

"You must've run outta people t' get in trouble with if you're this happy t' see _me_," he laughed.

Daisy bit back her own laughter. "You didn't tell me you were comin' home," she griped. "Your last letter said you weren't comin' home 'till Christmas."

"Well, I reckon if I ain't welcome here I can just go on back t' Atlanta," he teased, turning his back on her.

He started walking down the road, but Daisy caught his arm.

"You ain't goin' nowhere!"

Grinning, he let her turn him back around and draped his arm companionably around her shoulders as the two walked back down the drive towards the house. As they passed the clothesline, Enos' quick eyes spied out the basket of unhung laundry.

"Wash day, huh?" he asked. "Want me t' hang 'em for you?"

"No, I do not, thank you very much," she snapped, looking away as she felt her face redden.

Enos, confused, released her. "What? I've hung up th' wash for ya' dozens of times."

"Not in th' last two years, you ain't!"

"I don't know what you're gettin' all bent outta shape about. Ain't nothin' changes around here. "

His words were met with a flash of anger in her eyes. "Enos Strate," she seethed, "I don't know what you've been learnin' in th' big city, but it ain't proper for a boy t' be hangin' up a girl's unmentionables."

Anything Enos would have normally said in reply was cut short as he took a closer look at the clothes in the basket. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he felt a mirroring redness creep into his own cheeks. He supposed some things had changed in two years. "Oh..."

Daisy had expected some cheeky remark from him, but she'd caught Enos off-guard, rendering him profoundly and speechlessly uncomfortable. She wondered if he'd ever given a thought to the prospect of her growing up someday. Of course, her attire of ratty jeans and one of Luke's flannel shirts didn't exactly accentuate the changes that were taking place. She let him flounder for a few more seconds before she took pity on him.

"Oh Enos," she said, rolling her eyes, "don't you have anything better t' do than worry about th' wash? I figured you'd be a _little_ more happy t' see me."

"Shucks, Daisy," he said, smiling easily again, "I'm sorry. An' I did miss you...your _cookin'_, at least."

Daisy punched his arm. "You're libel t' have nothin' but grits now," she told him as they left the clothes behind and walked back to the house.

* * *

><p>The atmosphere around the supper table was warm and friendly and made Enos intensely aware of just how much he'd missed being in the company of those he considered family. As had always been the case with the Dukes, he felt as though he belonged there-a piece of their puzzle, joined in spirit if not by blood.<p>

He'd gone through explaining the schedule of his days, assuring them that they'd no doubt had lived more interesting lives than himself the past couple of months, and eventually the conversation shifted to small-town gossip. His eyelids began to feel heavy as he listened contentedly to Daisy, Luke, and Bo rehash their first week of school.

"I don't know about you," said Luke, stabbing at his potatoes, "but I ain't too crazy about this Hogg fella." He looked over at Uncle Jesse. "Did ya' know, Robbie Porter says he tried t' say they owed him back taxes 'cause they had a fencepost a half inch over their property line? He thinks he owns th' town just 'cause he owns th' bank now..."

Enos sat up straighter, trying to catch back up to the thread of conversation he'd lost after his mind had wandered off. "What's goin' on? Someone bought th' bank?" He wasn't rightly sure that was possible. How did one 'buy' a bank?

"Boss Hogg..._savior_ of Hazzard County," sneered Luke.

"You'd best watch your mouth, young man," Uncle Jesse told him. "Just because J.D.'s had questionable dealin's ain't a reason t' disrespect your elders."

"He comes sniffin' around here, I'll show him some respect alright..."

"Luke!"

Luke glanced grudgingly at his uncle. "Sorry, Uncle Jesse, but, it just...it ain't right. Why, he was a ridge-runner right along with you an' Otis. Now he's tryin' t' kick us all to th' curb."

Jesse sighed and shook his head. "Love of money'll make a man do things he'd never do otherwise." He pointed to Luke and then Bo in turn. "You boys best remember that."

J. D. Hogg...the name seemed familiar to Enos, but he couldn't seem to place it. "This guy bought th' _bank_?" he asked, again.

"Not just th' bank," answered Daisy. "He's bought up half th' town over th' last year or so."

"But...where'd he get th' money? I ain't never seen a rich ridge-runner before." His father, Otis Strate, had been the best ridge-runner in north Georgia, but Enos remembered plenty of slim meals growing up.

The others fell abruptly quiet, and Uncle Jesse got up and took his plate to the sink, leaving the conversation. Luke glanced back at his uncle before turning to Enos. "You ain't heard?" he whispered in disbelief.

"I ain't been _around_ to hear, Luke," he reminded him. "What in tarnation's goin' on?"

"Boss gets his money from snitchin' on people to th' Feds. He's tryin' t' strong-arm all th' moon-shiners 'round here into givin' him a cut of their profits, or he'll turn 'em in."

"He's done it, too," added Daisy.

"He's even tryin' t' run th' Sheriff outta town," piped up Bo.

"_What!.?_" Enos couldn't imagine someone going up against Butch Harris. "Why doesn't Sheriff Harris have him arrested?"

Luke shrugged. "That's just th' problem...he can't. Ain't nothin' illegal about evictin' people you hold th' mortgage on if they can't pay, an' there ain't nothin' th' Sheriff can do for th' moon-shiners without getting _himself_ in trouble for knowin' about them in th' first place."

Enos counted himself lucky the mortgage on his parents' house was with the Capitol City Savings & Loan instead of the Bank of Hazzard County. As for how the guy got his money...in the hills, being a snitch was even worse than being a revenuer.

After supper, Enos stood at the sink with Daisy and dried the dishes that she washed, still lost in thought over what they'd talked about earlier. "Do I know him?"

"Know who?"

"J.D. Hogg," he explained. "Seems like I know th' name, but I can't remember from where."

Daisy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah, you've met him. Remember th' guy who tried t' buy your dad's 'shine recipe off of you at his wake? That was Boss Hogg."

An image of a portly, balding man with pudgy cheeks and a cigar came to mind. "That little weasel..."

"Well, weasel yes, _little_ no. He's even fatter now."

They fell into silence then, each lost in their own thoughts - Daisy wishing she didn't have to go to school the next week, and Enos wondering how he would ever be able to tear himself away from Hazzard to go back to Atlanta. The two stood side by side as they worked, their arms brushing each others' occasionally with their proximity, neither speaking until a glint caught Enos' attention. He caught Daisy's right hand in his and pulled it out of the soapy water.

"Hey, that looks awful familiar," he said, grinning as he examined the ring on her fourth finger. Seeing it brought back memories of a hot summer day, standing on a bluff overlooking a lake in southern Tennessee, far away from Hazzard County. Days long passed, yet still dear to him of simpler times before his pa' had died and his world had turned upside down. Could it have been only four years ago?

"Cleaned up nice, huh? You know, I've been tryin' it on since I was eleven, waitin' for it to fit."

"I figured you'd lost it." He slid it from her finger and held it up to the light. The tiny diamond glittered in the center, and Enos wondered exactly how she'd managed to explain having a ring like this. "Anyone ask ya' where ya' got it?"

"Yeah...well...actually I told 'em_ I_ found it when I was little."

Enos made an amused sound, and placed it back on her finger. "That's just as well. I 'spect you'd get some pretty odd looks if ya' told 'em_ I_ gave it to ya'- what with it bein' a diamond an' all." Daisy stared at him, caught off guard by his comment. "Don't look at me like that," he laughed, thinking he'd embarrassed her. "I'm just joshin' ya'." He turned back towards the sink but instead of picking up another dish, leaned heavily against the counter and closed his eyes as a wave of fatigue hit him.

"Hey, you alright?"

Enos' eyes opened with a start, and he laughed nervously. "I'm just tired, I reckon. It's been a long...year."

"I can finish up here. Why don't you go on t' bed."

"You sure you don't mind?"

Her eyes met his, and she smiled. "Huh uh. Thanks for helpin'."

"Sure..."

Instead of turning to go, Enos found himself still watching her, suddenly overwhelmed by the simple thought of having to leave her again. Burying himself in schoolwork at the Academy and racing on weekends served more purposes than masking simple homesickness, and he realized that he'd missed her terribly, and only now, face to face, did he understand just how much. An intense longing to wrap his arms around her and hug her tight flooded through him, so strong it confused him with its veracity.

"Enos?"

He blinked as her voice broke his introspection to find he'd been staring at her.

"...'night Daisy."

"'Night, Enos." Daisy sighed as she watched him walk away, wondering what he'd been thinking.

* * *

><p>The next several days passed without much ado, and Enos found that he'd been right...for the most part, nothing had changed at the Duke farm. With everyone but himself and Uncle Jesse gone to school during the day, the hours seemed to drag by as slow as molasses. By Tuesday, Enos was already stir-crazy, enough to ask Uncle Jesse if he had any errands he needed run.<p>

"I was wonderin' how long it was gonna take ya' t' ask to borrow th' truck," Uncle Jesse answered, knowingly.

Enos fidgeted with embarrassment, his real motive having been read as truly as if it were marked across his forehead. "I...that ain't what I asked, Uncle Jesse."

The older man just laughed. "Enos, there ain't an excuse you can think up that Luke hasn't already used and then some," he told him. "But... I reckon I _could_ use some more tacks for th' roof, seein' as how that storm last week blew off a couple shingles." He pulled a dollar and the truck keys from his pocket. "I don't reckon you'd mind pickin' Daisy up from school later, would ya'? I 'spect she'd rather ride home with you than on th' bus."

"No sir," assured Enos, "I sure wouldn't." He took the money and keys and ran towards the truck when he realized he'd forgotten his manners. He turned around in the middle of his stride and tripped, hitting the side of the truck as it broke his fall. "Thanks, Uncle Jesse!" he called, happily.

Uncle Jesse rolled his eyes and shook his head, wondering how the boy was ever going to graduate from Police Academy if he couldn't keep from falling over his own feet. "Just don't forget th' tacks!" he called, before disappearing into the barn.

Having several hours free before school let out, Enos turned off of Mill Road before he reached town, and headed up into the hills. He hadn't been up to his own house since the last time he was here, and wanted to check it out. With his luck it would have been carried off by a tornado six months ago or burnt to the ground, and him still be paying the mortgage on it.

The leaves were already beginning to change in the foothills, the first hints of yellow and red touching the tips of the trees here and there along his route, mostly pecan with a smattering of maples, interwoven with the predominantly still green foliage. He drove slowly, taking in the scenery which, after nearly a year straight in the concrete jungle of Atlanta, his soul was starved for. Reaching the narrow lane that cut back to the Strate homestead, he parked the truck and got out to walk the rest of the way down to the house.

The wind blew steadily, filling the silence of the woods with a rushing sound as it stirred the top branches of the mighty oaks that enclosed the lane on either side. It was too early for the leaves to fall, too dry yet and still hot during the day, but the air here was cooler in the shade of the trees. Enos smiled to himself, recalling the adventures that had played out in his mind when he was a kid. He would run down the lane as fast as he could, arms wide, pretending he was flying through a portal to another world or seeking out a hidden castle where a beautiful princess waited for him to rescue her. Growing up alone had neccesarily infused him with a vivid imagination, and indeed the area had always seemed like something out of a fairytale...and in the privacy of his own mind he'd equated his mother to an evil witch enough times to make the story fitting.

He was nearly to the clearing when he stopped short. The lane was boggy here, especially the last several hundred feet -a consequence of so little sunlight making its way through the boughs which arched overhead. His pa' had always meant to lay gravel down, but like so many other things intended, time had run out on his father's plans. It wasn't the mire which had caused him to stop...it was what had already passed through it.

Thick ruts cut into the soft ground, fresh enough that the stagnant water was still cloudy with the churned up red clay of the Georgian hills. Enos knelt, tracing the marks of the tire's lugs. He knew Uncle Jesse checked on the place from time to time, but the tracks were definitely not left by the truck he'd come in. The Dukes spent money on their runner car, not the farm truck, and the tires of the old Chevy behind him were nearly as bald as the hardpack itself. Unsure of what it meant, and not knowing whether his "visitor" had been coming or going, Enos searched along the tree-line until he found a large stick to carry with him.

The yard was as he'd expected. He'd neglected it this year, figuring that with no one living there, there wasn't much reason to keep it up. It hadn't yet dried and gone to seed, and as such the prairie grasses were impossible for him to wade through and he was forced to keep to the open drive. The house rose up in the midst of the jungle, like a tombstone in a long forgotten graveyard, and Enos felt the nauseousness settle into the pit of his stomach at the sight of it. To him, it was a sepulcher, a time capsule of memories that he still from time to time felt powerless with which to deal.

All was abandoned, easing Enos' mind considerably because he honestly hadn't known what he would have done if someone had been there. He tried his best to ignore the old familiar echo his feet made on the steps as he made his way up to the porch.

"Ding-dang it all!"

Someone had broken in. He'd put a new lock on the door before he'd left for the Academy, not because he didn't trust the old one, but because the keys to it had been misplaced so long ago he couldn't be sure they'd ever existed. They'd never locked their door, not the deadbolt anyway. Perhaps he should have put up a solid door as well he thought as he gazed balefully at the broken pane of glass next to it. Sighing, he pulled open the now unlocked door and went inside.

At first, nothing seemed amiss. He'd gone through the entire house before he'd locked it up, emptying out the pantry to deter the mice and stripping the linens from the beds, folding them neatly and putting them in the linen closet. Now as he walked through the living area and into the kitchen, he frowned as his eyes picked out subtle differences here and there. The lamp which he'd stashed under the sink now sat in the center of the table, and the blanket that usually covered the back of the couch was missing. He moved on towards the back portion of the house and the bedrooms.

His room seemed undisturbed, and his fingers came away with a coating of dust as he raked them across the wooden floor just inside. The door to his parents' room was closed, but he couldn't remember for the life of him whether he'd left it that way or not. Enos pushed it open and was greeted by the most obvious evidence yet that someone had been staying there. The bed was made.

"Dang squatters..."

Enos slammed the door closed once again and went back towards the kitchen. The thought of someone having been in the house wasn't just a nuisance, it was downright creepy, and he found himself looking behind him - imagining the shadows moving on the periphery of his vision as his footsteps on the wood floor resounded hollowly through the empty house. He tried to find something else to focus on.

His stomach reminded him that he'd run off too fast that morning, and had neglected to bring any lunch along with him. Hoping against hope, he opened the kitchen cupboard. There were four pints of canned peaches. He opened a jar and ate hurriedly before setting to work nailing a board over the inside of the glass-paned front door. By the time he was finished, it was after two o'clock. He'd have to start moving if he wanted to get to Rhuebottom's for nails before school let out. Locking the door behind him, he cast a final glance across the wasteland that he'd once called a yard, climbed into the truck, and headed back to town.

* * *

><p>He was early...or Daisy was late - either way he'd been standing outside the school for several minutes past the last bell. Deja vu was playing tricks on his mind, though Enos supposed he'd waited for her so many times here it was inevitable. He was grinning to himself over the idea that the school should just set him a bench up here and be done with it, when he heard someone call his name.<p>

"Enos Strate? Oh my gosh, it _is_ you!""

Enos looked up to find a girl beaming at him from two steps down. His eyes took in her flaxen blond hair; the deep, expressive, blue eyes; and the Hazzard High cheerleader outfit - - which hugged a pleasantly curvy figure, before he realized who it was.

"_Amy?_"

"I can't believe you're back in town!" She climbed the last two steps quickly to stand beside him. "How's the Academy goin'?"

"Not bad, if I can ever get a minute t' sit down," he said. "Between classes an' racin', I'm about t' run myself ragged."

She grinned and shook her head. "You'd better take care of yourself down there in Atlanta. There're a lot of people countin' on you, ya' know."

He stared back at her. "What are you talkin' about?"

Her smile faltered and her eyes narrowed slightly, surprised by his confusion. "You ain't th' only one who dreams about gettin' outta these hills someday, Enos. There're a hell of a lot of kids... younger than me, watchin' t' see what happens t' _you_."

Enos suddenly felt as though the weight of the world had been dropped on his shoulders. He'd never imagined himself as any kind of role-model...heck, the whole thing had hardly been his idea in the first place. He'd never even set out with the intention of escaping the hills...that had been his _pa's_ dream for him. All he'd known was that if he didn't get out of Hazzard before he turned seventeen, the state was going to make him a permanent resident of the Sheridan Orphans' Home.

The momentousness of the thought struck him speechless.

She smiled kindly at him. "We're so proud of you. ..._All_ of us," she said. Her eyes glistened slightly in the corners, as though there were tears close behind her words. "I'm sorry," she laughed softy, "I don't mean t' get all sappy on ya'."

"It...that's okay, Amy." And for the first time in his life, it _was_. She wasn't the obnoxious little girl, chasing him around with jam and toast, or batting her eyes at him anymore. She was just...Amy. He'd known her nearly as long as he'd known Daisy.

"I've gotta get," she continued, "we've got practice at three-thirty." She motioned towards the gym. "It sure was nice t' see you again."

"You, too..."

Amy hesitated a moment. "Sorry, Enos, but... would you mind if I gave you a hug? I know I've been nothin' but a pain in the ass since I was little, but I..."

Her apology was cut short by him putting his arms around her. "That's alright, Amy," he said, honestly. "It's good t' see you, too." He released her. "You take care of yourself. An' tell your pa' I said "Hi"."

"I will," she answered. "...You know...if you ever need anything..."

"I know."

He watched her go, thinking of how much things had changed in Hazzard since he was a kid, and not entirely happy to realize his childhood was behind him.

Daisy stood in the front courtyard beyond the steps - horror etched on her face as she witnessed Enos embracing the last girl on earth she thought he would ever possibly be interested in. Who was she kidding, though? She wasn't the only one who'd changed over the last few years, and Amy...well...Amy was _gorgeous_, and in her shadow, Daisy was instantly and acutely aware of how she herself looked. It had never bothered her before that she was a tomboy. Now, she felt ugly and mousy - reading the future as Enos' gaze followed Amy across the courtyard. Daisy pulled her hair from it's customary pony-tail and shook it free before continuing over to the stairs where he waited.

He saw her and smiled. "Hey! You're late."

"Sorry, I had to copy Emma Redman's notes for history. We've got a test Thursday."

"Better you than me," he assured. "I'm sure you'll ace it."

She gave him a doubtful look. "It's Mr. Reed. I'm sure I won't."

"Ugh. Is he still teachin'? I figured he would've put himself to sleep ages ago."

"Yeah, well he's still as boring as ever, that's for sure. What were ya' talkin' t' Amy about?" she asked, unable to stem her curiosity. "Th' two of you looked _awfully_ cozy," she added, knowing teasing him about it would make him think twice about hugging the girl again.

He scowled down at her. "I can just leave ya' here if you'd rather ride th' bus."

"Say, Enos...I've been thinkin'..."

"'Bout _what_?" he asked, warily.

"I don't know...maybe_ I_ should try out for the cheer-leading squad next year."

To Daisy's consternation, Enos burst out laughing at her. "What in tarnation would ya' want t' go an' do _that_ for?"

"What's so wrong with it?" she demanded. "Quit laughin' at me!"

"Since when have _you_ ever wanted t' be a cheerleader, Daisy? You've sure made enough fun of 'em over th' years. 'Sides...you're too pretty t' be a cheer-leader," he said, matter-of-factly, "you'd make 'em jealous."

He started down the steps leaving Daisy behind him, struggling to dissect his compliment and wondering why Enos Strate had to be so all-fired complicated.

"Are you comin' or not?" he called back over his shoulder.

"I'm comin'..." she groused, catching up to him.

"You know," mused Enos, "I think Luke's right. Girls've gotta be th' slowest animals on Earth."

The only reply he got was a jab in the ribs.

* * *

><p>"You've got company."<p>

Daisy looked up from the notebook she'd been writing in to find they were at the turn off to the farm. In front of the house sat a blue pickup. She squinted against the glare of the sun on the windshield, trying to think of who it would be. "Wonder who it is..."

"We'll find out soon enough, I 'spect," Enos said as he pulled up beside it and cut the engine.

He climbed out of the truck and glanced inside the window of the visitor's pickup. There was nothing of much interest inside the cab, just a sack of groceries, but as he took a cursory glance at the rest of the vehicle, his eyes were drawn to the tires...and their heavy lugs packed with thick, wet clay. His heart skipped a beat, automatically thinking of the social worker who had once visited the farm shortly after his father's death. He was seventeen now, though, legally an adult in Georgia and out of reach of the state's welfare policies. Beyond that, he had no idea who it could be. He made his way towards the farmhouse, still looking back at the truck, and nearly ran over Daisy who had stopped in the middle of the yard. He was about to ask her what she was doing when she took his hand in hers.

"Enos stop," she whispered, steadying him.

His heart beat in double time as he noticed the panic in her eyes. She looked away from him, and he followed her line of sight up to the porch.

"You've gotta be kidding me...," he murmured, loud enough for only Daisy to hear.

On the Duke's front porch was the last person he'd ever expected to see in Hazzard County again...his mother.

Tightening his grip on Daisy's hand, Enos walked slowly forward, feeling as though he were an escaped convict being led to his execution. He stopped at the bottom step and looked up at her, having no idea what she would say, but dreading it nevertheless. Her eyes flicked quickly over his face, not in fond remembrance, but as though scanning for some internal flaw that could be read upon his countenance.

"'Bout time you showed up," she complained, apparently satisfied by her inspection that this was in fact the child she'd birthed. "I went down to th' school only t' find they ain't seen or heard from you in two years."

"I...I graduated early," he said, stunned. He'd expected no warm welcome from her, still...the last time she'd seen him had been two years ago when she'd left him by the side of the road two counties over and a day's journey from home. Had she even given him a second thought? He could have been dead for all she knew.

Uncle Jesse moved closer to the woman and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Now Agnes," he said, softly, "you've been gone...well... a considerable amount of time... and you didn't rightly leave no address for us t' get in touch with ya'. Why, Enos here's halfway through Police Academy." He smiled at Enos. "I know Otis'd be awful proud of him."

"I gather some would," she said, unimpressed.

Enos could simply stare at her. _The house...the truck..._

"Come on, Enos, let's go." She walked down the steps, towards her truck, not even looking at him as she passed.

"Agnes." Uncle Jesse's voice cut the silence- -softly, but with a subtlety of command that made even Agnes Strate stop in her tracks. "He ain't a boy no more. He's seventeen. I reckon it's up t' _him_ whether he goes or stays."

Enos' eyes met Uncle Jesse's, and for an instant he considered the truth of the matter. Legally, he could walk away from her once and for all, and that knowledge in itself made the alternative choice easier...it was _his_ choice to make, not _hers_. Yet, as much as he'd never seemed to be able to live up to her standards, he'd always felt compelled to keep trying. She was his mother, after all, and there would always be a corner of his heart reserved for her, waiting for the day he finally figured out how to win her love.

"It's okay, Uncle Jesse," he said, softly. "I'd better go."

With that, he turned to follow his mother.


	8. Edge of Seventeen, Part 2

_A/N: *Excerpt from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, edited slightly for length._

_A "Brownie" was an inexpensive camera popular in the 1950s-60s.  
><em>

_And yes, there really are people like Agnes Strate...unfortunately._

* * *

><p>His mother was already behind the wheel as Enos climbed into the truck and slammed the door, cutting himself off from the Dukes and the farmhouse which he had called home for so long. Daisy's eyes met his, but he looked away, unable to watch himself leave her.<p>

The truck sped down the drive, barely slowing as it swung out onto Mill Creek, forcing Enos to brace himself to keep from flying into the door. He buckled the lap-belt across himself, remembering the last time he'd ridden with her. Though a myriad of questions burned in his mind, he stared out the window, wondering in silence where she'd been the last two years. He'd have to find the right time to ask her about it - Agnes Strate's temper was much like a sleeping lion- one didn't whack it on the nose unless they wanted to get their arm chewed off.

They turned off towards the hills, up the roads he'd had driven on just a few hours earlier. A simmering panic began to well up inside of him the closer they came to the house, radiating through his arms and legs as a tingling numbness, and the surrealism of it all made the drive seem faster than usual. Soon the truck was jouncing over the potholes in their lane, the mud slung up from the tires hissing against the fenders. His mother parked the truck in front of the porch and got out, waiting for him by the porch. Her eyes cast across the overgrown yard, a frown tugging at her lips as Enos waited for the scolding he knew was coming.

"I ain't never seen such a pitiful mess in all my life."

"I didn't reckon there was any point to keepin' th' yard up since there warn't no one livin' here," he explained.

She focused her attention back to him. "Don't sass me, Enos. It's too dark now, but I want you up bright and early tomorrow morning workin' on it."

"Yes ma'am...," he whispered.

He felt short of breath, as though he were a fly trapped in a jar, and the house and yard - already misty in the failing daylight, seemed to close in on him. Fighting the panic inside him, he wrenched open the door and went inside. His mother caught the door before it could close and followed behind him. Enos fumbled with the matches, striking the first one too hard and breaking it. He had better luck with the second and lit the lamp, setting it on the counter. It bathed the walls of the living room and kitchen in a soft orange light which would have been cozy and homey if it hadn't been the last place in the world he wanted to be.

His mother brushed past him and rinsed her hands off in the sink. "Tomorrow's a big day," she told him, "you'd better get on t' bed soon."

Enos didn't know what was so 'big' about the next day, but she'd always talked that way, for as long as he could remember - about big plans that never happened and important dates that were spent doing menial tasks the same as every other day. "Yes'm. I gotta eat somethin' first, though."

"Mind you clean up after yourself. We don't need flies in here."

"I will."

He waited until she turned and left the kitchen, and he heard the door to her bedroom open and then close again, before breathing a sigh of relief at her absence. The only thing in the cupboard were peaches and so, for the second time that day, he took down a jar. He ate slowly this time, watching the flame of the lamp flicker mindlessly back and forth.

If he tried, it wasn't very hard to pretend that the last two years had never happened-that his pa' was out making moonshine, his ma' had already gone to bed, and that tomorrow was a school day. There was a silence in the house though that his imagination couldn't shake - a stillness caused not by the night and sleep, but by the absence of a soul. In the grip of that realization, his illusion came toppling down. That stillness would never end, it would go on and on forever. For Enos, the house would always be dead. His father had been its light and without him, it was a prison of painful memories, each one battling for domination.

Sitting in the semi-darkness, he longed for the comforting brightness of electric light and the genuine friendship of those he considered more of a family than his blood.

He washed the jar and dried it, setting it back in the cabinet before blowing out the lamp and heading to his old room. The bed was as he'd left it, stripped of linens, but he was too tired to fix it. He took his jacket off, folded it up for a pillow, and lay down facing the window. Eventually his mind wandered, taking his attention off of his mother and on to other things-namely how he was going to make it back to the Duke farm by Saturday. He'd be in a mess of trouble if he missed his ride back down to Atlanta. When sleep finally came to him, it was troubled-visited by the nightmare he hadn't had for several months where the house was burning around him, and his father was just beyond his reach.

* * *

><p>Enos woke suddenly the next morning; cold, tired, and with a gnawing hunger in his belly. He sat up on the edge of the bed, groggily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and threw his jacket back on as the crisp morning air brought goose-bumps to his arms. It was too early in the year to light the fireplace and the house would be chilly until the sun had been up a good while. Before his father died, the wood cooking stove would keep burning through the night, warming the main rooms, but he hadn't lit it since he'd gone to the Academy.<p>

Instead of getting up, he fell back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the yard he had no desire to mow. Still, if his mother was back to stay, the only right and proper thing to do would be to make it as nice as possible for her before he had to leave. Resolved, he got back up and left his room.

He smelled food, which struck him as odd since he didn't remember there being any food in the house, but the sack of groceries he'd forgotten about in the truck was sitting on the counter. His mother glanced up from the dishes she was washing as he came into the kitchen.

"Mornin', Ma'," he said, striving to be more cheery than he felt.

"I made ya' some biscuits, and there's some crab-apple jelly for you there on the table." She nodded towards the table where a plate sat with two good sized biscuits and a pint of light pink jelly.

"Where'd you get th' stuff t' make biscuits?"

"It's just Jiffy mix," she said, as though that would answer all his questions.

"Oh... alright, well thanks, ma'. I reckon I could eat a horse about now."

As he sat down to eat, he noticed a photo album he'd never seen before sitting in the seat of the chair next to him. His pa' had been the unofficial family photographer, having traded a crate of his infamous peach pie moonshine for a Brownie, but film was expensive and so pictures were only taken at family reunions and such.

He picked up the album, and sat it on the table in front of him, cracking open the front cover. Pictures of his mother smiled up at him from under their plastic covering, At least he assumed it was his mother, unless she had a long lost twin somewhere, though the pictures certainly hadn't been taken in Hazzard. The terrain in the background was rugged and dusty, reminding him of pictures he'd seen of New Mexico, and Arizona, and the deserts of the western United States.

Even more startling were the clothes she was wearing. She'd always had a sharp word to say about any girl in town she thought was dressed inappropriately, but the short skirts and skimpy halter tops she was donning in most of the pictures were far more revealing than anything _he'd_ ever seen. The only women around here who dressed like that were Ms. Maple's Madames...and everyone in town knew what _they_ really were.

Intensely uncomfortable at seeing his mother dressed like a floozy, he shut the album quickly and slid it across the table from him. He was too late, though, and she came around the table from behind him and scooped up the book in her arms as she flashed him a bright smile.

"Oh, Enos," she said, dreamily, "you wouldn't believe how different it is out west! " She plopped down in the chair next to him and opened the album back up, flipping through several pages until she found the one she was looking for. "Here, look..." She pointed to a shot of herself standing next to another woman in between two middle aged men in front of some sort of a concrete type building. In front of them were several dozen children. "This is th' school I worked at."

He hazarded a quick glance at the picture she was pointing to. "Uh..._school?_ ...You mean t' tell me you were a _teacher_?" That was about the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

"I sure was. They were lookin' for someone just like me, an' there I was. They was _awful_ sorry t' loose me after all I'd helped them with," she said, loftily, as though it would be preposterous for him to think otherwise. "It would've been nice if you'd of came with me... but I reckon family don't mean as much _here_ anymore as it does out there. "

Enos gritted his teeth and managed to let the insinuation go without defending himself. He scanned the other five pictures on the page. Three were of children that he presumed were students there, but one showed his mother kneeling down next to two little girls, one on either side of her, smiling hugely with an arm around each of their shoulders.

For an instant, a burning envy shot through him at these children upon whom his mother had bestowed her ever illusive approval, but he quickly dismissed it...she could be charming enough when it suited her. His eyes shifted to the other picture on the page, of his mother and one of the other male teachers. The man had his arm around her waist in a gesture a mite too friendly for Enos' tastes.

"Who's _he_?" he asked, tapping on the picture.

"Just one of the teachers," she snapped, all former geniality gone. Shutting the album, she picked it up and set it on the kitchen counter before turning back to him. "We've got a lot of work today, and I don't have time to go over every picture with you, Enos. You're stallin' doin' yer work, and mind you I haven't forgot you said that lawn would be done by dinner time."

Enos couldn't remember having said anything about how long it would take, but he nodded his head anyway. "I'll get right to it."

"All this talk's done given me a terrible headache. I'm gonna lie down for a while."

He frowned, wondering if perhaps she was actually ill. "Are ya' feelin' bad? I heard there's a flu-bug goin' 'round th' high school. You want me t' get you somethin'?"

"I ain't an invalid, Enos."

"I din't mean no disrespect, ma'."

"You know, I don't think I ever had t' ask those kids at that school t' get t' work twice."

* * *

><p>The 'yard' couldn't be mowed. He tried to explain it to his mother how a hand-driven mower wasn't going to make much dent in a field of prairie grass and wildflowers, most of which were chest-high if not higher, but she'd retired to her bedroom and slammed the door with a grave warning that it best be cleared when she came back out.<p>

The last time he'd been down to the shed was two years ago. He hadn't re-locked it - just chucked the mower in and slammed the door, but since then the rains had washed the topsoil against it, and it had hardened like concrete and sealed it just as effectively. It took him all of half an hour to clear enough away to open the door far enough to let himself in.

The shed still smelled of rancid oil, gasoline, and the metallic scent of old tools, and his mind began playing the game of_ "my pa' was the last one to touch this..." _and_ "my pa' set this here..."._ He sighed and focused his efforts on finding the tool he was looking for.

It was hanging on the wall, sitting behind the corn-shucker, which itself weighed a good 150 pounds, and that was stowed away behind another assortment of oddments. He shifted and moved everything, managing to gouge the palm of his hand on the corner of an old toolbox in the process, until finally he was able to reach the scythe hanging on the far end of the wall. He took it outside and examined it in the sunlight.

The blade wasn't too bad and he reckoned it wouldn't take much sharpening to do the job. Problem was, he didn't rightly know how to use it. He'd _seen_ it used - when they were hard up for cash and the corn had had an off year, his father had sowed the yard and field behind the house with hayseed. Having someone else cut it cost money, and so his pa' had cut it himself and hauled it off to a neighboring farm. Enos had watched him, fascinated with the two foot long, curved blade which sliced large semi-circles through the dense hay as if it were nothing but butter, but he had watched only with the eyes of a child and had been more interested in jumping in the huge haystack than learning how to use the tool.

It took an hour of working with the scythe before he was finally able to catch the trick of it and begin to make a dent in clearing the field. He labored on as the sun crossed in the sky, stopping occasionally to resharpen the blade, but otherwise continuing without a break, knowing the blisters he was rubbing on his hands wouldn't feel any better if he did. He fell into a rhythm as he swung the blade in front of him, walking slowly from one end of the yard to the other. It was well into afternoon by the time he finished. He washed up in the creek behind the house and then went back inside to find his mother.

She was sitting on the couch, pouring over the album from earlier that morning. Enos took a seat on the far end of the couch and fidgeted, trying not to pick at his throbbing hands, and unsure whether she hadn't noticed him or was just ignoring him.

He cleared his throat. "Uh...ma'...th' yard's done."

"Good. I'll be out to check it d'rectly," she said, without looking up.

Enos frowned. She might as well have said, _"I'll be out in a minute to tell you what you did wrong._" There were more pressing matters on his mind, though, namely getting back to the Duke farm by Saturday morning to meet up with Dewey and Jeb.

She closed the album and set it down beside her. "First... let's hear about this Police Academy," she said, giving him a true smile of the sort Enos so rarely saw from her.

He smiled back at her, hoping her interest in what he'd been doing was legitimate. There was no rhyme or reason to her shifting moods, and he'd seen it change in an instant, before his very eyes. It was these infrequent times that she was in a _good_ mood that kept his hope alive, the moments when she seemed more genuine and approachable, and he would find himself pretending that she had always been and would always be that way. The truth was that he had spent his life walking on eggshells, never knowing what might set her off again.

Enos gave her the same run-down of his schedule he'd given the Dukes previously, but so rarely did he have his mother interested in what he had to say, he elaborated more than he had before on his friends and how he'd been earning money to pay the mortgage with racing.

"I 'spect you'll be wantin' t' get back down there soon," she said. "Where's your car? I didn't see it th' other day."

"I was gonna ask you about that, ma'," he began, nervously. "You see, me an' Dewey and Jeb all pitched in t' save gas, and they're gonna be picking me up at the Dukes' come Saturday mornin' early, so... if you wouldn't mind, I'd be much obliged if you could drop me by there on Friday."

"I've reckon I've got t' go into town before long, so I'll drop you by then," she answered, easily. "I'm sure we'll have time."

"That'd be great, ma'!" Impulsively, he leaned over to her and gave her a hug.

She returned the hug, somewhat awkwardly, as one who hadn't had much practice at such physical declarations of devotion..which she hadn't.

"Mind you that yard's gotta be raked before y' go, though," she said, sternly, when he sat back. "I don't need a yard fulla rotten weeds."

"Yes'm! I'll get right to it!"

With that, he hopped up and bounded out the front door, tripping on the top step and barely missing falling face-first onto the drive. Unmindful of his sore muscles and the seeping blisters on his hands, he found the rake and spent the rest of the day clearing the yard. By the time he was done, twilight had settled over the small homestead, and the stars shone down upon him from the clear, cloudless, sky.

His mother had already gone to bed, but had left the cast-iron skillet on the wood stove's warmer for him with fried potatoes and green beans. Gratefully, he devoured his supper and then headed to bed, mindful to take a quilt and pillow from the linen closet this time. His heart at ease, he fell quickly into sleep knowing that, come Friday, he would be back at the Duke farm and the next day, back to Atlanta.

* * *

><p>Thursday passed quickly while Enos busied himself with any task that his mother might think needed doing before he left, determined not to leave any stone unturned that might upset her and change her mind about dropping him off at the Duke's the next day. He'd cleaned the outhouse, filled in the cracks in the root cellar, beat all the rugs out, cleaned the chimney - which then necessitated dusting the living room and scrubbing the wood floors.<p>

His work for the most part took him outside and away from his mother's critical eyes. Her happiness from the evening before had soured overnight, and he'd woken to find her scrubbing the kitchen counter with alarming intensity, a quiet scowl on her face. There had been no breakfast and Enos hadn't dared to ask for any. He did his chores and stayed out of her way; reminding himself that tomorrow, he'd be on his own again.

The peace held through supper, though hardly a word passed between them. He washed the dishes and then escaped to the solitude of his room. Leaning his back against the closed door, he looked around, trying to think of anything he might need to take with him. He supposed some winter clothes might be warranted, last winter he'd forgotten to pack any long sleeved shirts and had spent most of his down time being miserably cold. There were only two sweaters in his dresser, but it was better than nothing, and (like most other guys at the Academy) he'd become quite proficient at washing clothes in his dorm sink.

He took a flour sack out of his bottom drawer and stuck the clothes in, twisting the top before tying it in a knot. Worried that he would forget them, he left his room and went back through the house, and sat the bag beside the front door without giving it a thought.

"What's in th' bag?" asked his mother as he passed her.

"Oh, just some warmer clothes," he explained, turning back around. "My heavy coat's at th' farm, but I'll need a couple sweaters, I reckon."

"You plannin' on goin' somewhere?"

Enos' heart skipped a sickening beat, and he knew, by the calculated coldness on her face, his luck had run out. "I...I gotta go back t' Atlanta, ma'...for school...you said that tomorrow..."

"I remember perfectly well what I said," she assured him. "I believe I said you had work that needed t' be done here. I've had just about enough of this Academy foolishness. Your Aunt Mary was _murdered_ by a damn revenuer, an' ain't no child of mine gonna turn tail on his family while_ I_ have anything t' say about it. Your pa' was wrong t' fill your head with such nonsense."

"But I..."

"Don't talk back t' me!" she shouted. "I ain't never seen a child as ungrateful as you! Why, you got a house and land that could be yours someday, but you don't even care about lookin' after it...running off t' Atlanta with these boys our family don't even know."

"Ma', I..."

"I'm sure I don't know even half th' trouble you've gotten yourself into...'specially with that Duke girl. I reckon I'll be hearin' she's pregnant next."

Enos' manner changed in a instant. His eyes met hers - as cold and piercing as those that glared back at him. "Don't you talk about Daisy like that," he whispered.

She could say anything about him, he'd heard it all before. Different words perhaps, but always the same theme of what a wretched and worthless son he'd always been. He'd learned long ago not to listen, and in truth it hardly fazed him anymore. But Daisy... _No one_ talked like that about _Daisy_...

Without waiting for her answer, he turned and left the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>The full moon rose slowly over Hazzard County as Luke finished loading moonshine for a long overnight run. Tonight business was booming, a rarity on a week night, but since school was out on Friday, he would be running right along with his Uncle Jesse. Double the load equaled double the money, and the Dukes never did anything by halves. He wedged an extra gallon into a crevice between two boxes and shut the trunk, wiping the dust from the decaying cardboard off on his jeans before he turned to his uncle.<p>

"Say, Uncle Jesse, what time you think we'll make Johnson City by?"

Johnson City had been a bustling portal of sleaze and villainy in the 1930's, though it had tamed down considerably since then. Nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Tennessee, it was halfway between Chicago and Miami, and rumors abounded that Al Capone himself had used the local hotel for a headquarters in the roaring hey-days of the early part of the century.

The Dukes cared little for it's reputation...they just went there to sell their moonshine. Most nights bootlegging runs were made to closer venues, such as Chattanooga or Knoxville, but full moon nights were traditionally for longer trips. Johnson City was a four hour drive up through the western edge of North Carolina, but they gave top dollar for good corn whiskey, and Jesse Duke's name was known by more than a few of the best buyers.

His uncle took the pocket watch from his overalls and held it up to the dim glow from the porch light. "I reckon if you'd do more loadin' an' less daydreamin' we'll make it by one-thirty, two at th' latest." He stopped to take a closer look at his nephew. "An' you stay outta them gamblin' houses. We Dukes don't hold with none a' them vices. Sides, you ain't old enough t' be pokin' your nose in where it don't belong."

The darkness hid the smug grin that crossed eighteen year old Luke's face. He could be honest as they came about the casino...his mind drifted more towards the girls than the cards. "Now, Jesse, you know I ain't goin' nowhere's around there. I just wanted t' make sure we're back in time for breakfast."

Jesse grunted in disbelief. "You best keep outta trouble, boy, or I'll tan yer hide," he told him. "I'm gonna go tell Daisy we're off."

The house was dark, save for a solitary lamp in the living room and Jesse knew he'd find Daisy there. She'd been acting strangely lately. Of course, if he thought back on it, she'd been acting downright odd for a while now. He hadn't been able to put his finger on the reason for it - that is until Enos Strate had come back home again. There was little that escaped Jesse's notice anymore, and it was glaringly apparent to him that his niece's happiness was inextricably wrapped up in the boy. She hadn't left off worrying since he'd gone with his mother two days ago.

He found her as he'd expected, sitting on the couch, her eyes fixed on the flames of the fireplace. A paperback was turned upside down on her knee, holding her place, but it was Jane Eyre and he knew she'd read it at least half a dozen times.

"You gonna be alright?" he said, softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up quickly and gave her uncle a soft smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. You be careful."

"I will, honey," he assured her. "I should be back by early mornin'." He patted her shoulder lovingly and turned to go, but she caught his hand in hers.

"Uncle Jesse..."

"Yeah?"

"What if he ain't back here by Saturday mornin'? He's gonna miss his ride."

Uncle Jesse sighed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I don't know, Daisy honey, but it ain't none of our business. I'm sorry."

"I sure wish there were somethin' we could do about it."

"I know you do, but we'll just have t' wait an' see what happens," he said. "There's no sense worryin' over it. He's gotta good head on his shoulders, an' I reckon th' good Lord'll take care of him."

He left her then, and she waited until she heard the creak and slam of the old screen door closing before picking up the book that she'd laid aside, commencing again with the lines which had carried her thoughts out across the dark night and into the hills not so far away.

_"...When you are with me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your frame...and if miles should come broad between us, I am afraid that cord will be snapped; and then I've a nervous notion that I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you...you'd forget me."*_

* * *

><p>The moonlight slipping through the window cast its beams across the casement and the smooth planks of the wooden floor, up over the bed where - long after his mother had gone to bed, Enos sat quietly, listening to the coyotes howling in the woods beyond the field. Gradually the moon rose higher, shifting its rays until the left side of his face fell into shadow, splitting him between the light and the dark and mirroring acutely what he felt inside.<p>

The past was a darkness so vast and deep that it threatened to smother him, and yet the future was so open...so bright and free that it nearly blinded him with its intensity. In the long hours preceding, he'd made a decision, and though he wasn't sure it was the right path to take, at least it would be his own. He needed to leave - not in anger, but with the simple solitary awareness that until he made a choice, nothing would ever change.

Slipping his jacket on, Enos left his room and walked quietly back down the dark hallway. On the counter by the sink he left a note with his address at the Academy assuring his mother that he would continue paying the mortgage on the house as best he could. He stopped at the front door and picked up the sack of clothes.

Behind him the shadows loomed, calling him back into the familiarity of it all - urging him to forget his half-baked dreams and just go back to bed. Outside was an unknown, and infinitely more terrifying in it's uncertainty than the emotional wounds dished out by his mother. The cold metal of the doorknob was like a slap in the face, and his hand trembled slightly as he turned it.

With a heart as full as the harvest moon above him, Enos opened the door and stepped out into the night.

It would be a daunting walk from his home to the Duke farm. Their property was eighteen miles down Mill Road and walking there would take him the better part of a day, but the shine-moon had afforded him a better idea. Several ridge-runners he knew, Uncle Jesse included, would be coming home early morning down Ridge-runner Road. For Enos, who knew these hills better than the back of his hand, it was less than a ten mile hike north to reach it. If he could get there before daylight, he might just be able to bum a ride straight back to the farm.

He could cut through the Sill's property west of them and come out on Cedar Point Road, but it was slower and his time short, so Enos opted with the quicker option of cutting through the woods to the north. The moonlight lit the deer trails as well as any flashlight, and he made the most of his time before it set. Dawn was breaking over the horizon as he came out at the corner of Ridge-runner and Cedar Point. He awaited each car with baited breath, but Uncle Jesse's Black Tillie was nowhere to be seen. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, he began to think he'd made a foolish mistake. He'd probably missed him in the dark while he was slogging through Miller's swamp. By 9:00 am, the traffic was gone.

He gave it another five minutes, feeling like an idiot with a long walk ahead of him. Finally he gave up and began to walk down Cedar Point towards Mill Creek Road. He'd gone less than half a mile though, when he heard the roar of a well-tuned big block engine behind him and turned around to find Luke's Galaxie bearing down on him. He waved and the car pulled over.

Luke leaned from the driver's seat towards the open passenger window. "What in th' heck are you doin' out here, Enos?"

"Hey Luke! Boy, am I sure glad t' see you, buddy. Mind if I hitch a ride?"

Luke gestured to the empty seat. "Be my guest."

"Thanks, Luke," said Enos as he climbed in, "I sure wasn't lookin' forward t' walkin'."

Luke gave him an appraising look. "What th' hell are you doin' out here anyways?"

"I've gotta get back to th' farm so Dewey an' Jeb can pick me up t' morrow," he said, hoping that would pass for an explanation.

"Yer ma' wouldn't give you a lift, huh?" Enos' silence told Luke that he was right.

"She's...got things t' do."

"Uh huh. You know, Daisy's been drivin' us all up th' wall worryin' about you."

Enos turned towards the window to hide his grin. At least _she_ cared. "What're you doin' runnin' shine on a school night anyhow?"

"No school today. Somethin' about teacher conferences." Luke shrugged his indifference, merely happy to have a Friday off.

"Oh..."

"I gotta catch some shut-eye, an' then we'll see if th' fish are bitin'...that is if a city boy like you can still remember how t' thread a worm."

"You're on, buddy-roe."

* * *

><p>Daisy's first reaction to Enos following Luke through the kitchen door was a surprised smile, but it died on her lips when she caught sight of his bandaged hands.<p>

Ignoring her cousin, she made her way across the kitchen to Enos. He was quiet as she took one of his hands in hers and inspected it. He'd made do the best he could with what he could find to protect his blistered hands, but the strips of cloth he'd torn from an old ratty pillowcase and wound around his blistered palms were dirty from the work he'd done the last two days, and he'd been too busy thinking of other things to pay much attention.

He knew Daisy well enough that he could almost feel her anger. Like a visceral, living, breathing vapor, it glistened in her eyes as she looked back up at him and shook her head in disbelief. He stammered an apology, though for what he wasn't sure... beyond simply causing her distress.

Gently, she took him by the wrist and led him through the kitchen and living room and into the small bathroom off the hallway. She closed the door behind them, and Enos waited patiently as she rummaged through the medicine cabinet for Betadine and a roll of gauze. She sat them beside the sink, but then glanced back into the cabinet, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Hold on a minute," she said, and was back out the door before he could even ask her what she was looking for. She returned a minute later with the roll of tape Luke used when he wrapped his hands for boxing practice and sat it beside the other items. She took his left hand, which was the less injured of the two, and unwrapped it.

"I'm guessin' it didn't go so well."

He shrugged. "It's my own fault for not keepin' th' yard up. I had t' cut it with th' scythe."

She dropped his hand to point her finger into his chest. "Don't you go blamin' yourself for nothin', Enos. You ain't th' one who ran off. She can go cut her own dang grass..."

"...Daisy..."

"Don't go standin' up for her, neither." she said, cutting him off. "I ain't gonna listen to it." She grabbed his hand again and cleaned the blisters.

He watched in silence as she wrapped his palm in a layer of gauze and then wound the tape around it.

"That oughta hold it better."

She moved on to his right hand, unwrapped it, and frowned at his blood encrusted palm.

He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "It's just blisters."

She pointed to the cut on his palm. "That's not a blister."

"I cut myself on somethin' in th' shed. I'm fine, Daisy...really," he insisted. "It looks worse'n it is."

"You're lucky it ain't infected, yet."

She worked quickly and deftly, cleaning the blisters and cut as gently as she could, though Enos couldn't hold back a hiss of pain as the disinfectant seeped into the deep gash.

"Sorry...," she murmured.

She moved closer to him to get a better angle, and her hair brushed against his cheek, infusing his senses with the aroma of strawberries from her shampoo. Enos closed his eyes, focusing on her instead of the hand that she was mending. Warmth radiated through his chest where her body brushed against his, diffusing into an odd tingling sensation - like an electrical current, though decidedly more pleasant - that made his heart beat quicker. He concentrated on the feeling, wondering at it...

"I left," he whispered, without thinking.

"What?"

He opened his eyes, surprised himself at the words which had seemed to slip from him by their own volition. "I...I left," he repeated.

At first, Daisy thought she hadn't heard him correctly, but his face was deadly serious, his eyes focused on hers. She smiled sadly, proud of him for standing up for himself, but knowing it was bound to take a toll on his often over-active conscience. "You did th' right thing."

He shrugged noncommittally and looked away. "Maybe."

She slid her arms around him and hugged him, laying her head against his chest. "You oughta be more careful," she said, changing the subject to something less painful, "you're gonna use all my Betadine."

He laughed. "Shucks, Daisy," he joked, hugging her back, "you know I like it when you fuss over me."

Someone beat against the door, and Enos dropped his arms from around her.

"Say Daisy," called Luke through the door, "are you about done playin' Florence Nightingale in there? Some of us gotta use that room, ya' know."

Reluctantly, Daisy turned away from Enos and back to the sink. "I'm done. Just a second," she answered, putting the Betadine and gauze back into the cabinet. She opened the door and left, silently cursing Luke for his unwanted interruption.

Enos watched her go, the ghost of her hands' feathery touch and smell of her hair seared into his memory. She had patched him up time after time before, what with his penchant for tripping over his own feet. What then was so different about it _now_, that he nearly wished he had some other ailment for her to tend to?

"Hey!" Luke waved his hand in front of Enos' eyes. "Anyone home?"

Enos shook his head. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Luke." He stepped out of the bathroom and went to look for the fishing tackle he'd stashed in the barn the summer before.

* * *

><p>The fishing turned out to be a bust and after three hours of nothing biting other than the mosquitoes and chiggers, Luke had called it quits. Bo had followed soon followed after him.<p>

Daisy watched Enos as he cast his line out once more across the murky water, wishing he'd just give up, but she knew it wasn't in his nature. The boys, Enos included, all had some strange infatuation with the fish in Hazzard Pond. If a big one got away, they'd give it a name and obsess over it until one of them finally caught it...or until an even bigger one got away. They'd talk to the blasted thing, make silly bets with it if it would take their line, and be all together ridiculous about it. Since spring it had been "Big Earl" whom Bo had hooked just long enough for everyone to get a good look at before it broke his line and swam off to freedom.

"Enos, I swear, if you don't shut up about that fish, I'm gonna give you a shove an' you can go find it with your own two hands."

He turned around, grinning. "How many fish have _you_ caught? ...Let's see...hmmm...yep, I reckon that's about it." As long as they'd been going fishing together, she'd never caught more than a handful of keepers.

Daisy chucked a lump of mud at him but missed. "That's cause you're always scarin' them all away."

"That ain't what th' fish tell me," he insisted, smugly, but he reeled in his line anyway.

She watched as he broke down the rod and delicately removed the jig he'd been using, placing it carefully back in his tackle box. It never ceased to amaze her how the guy who would be voted 'Most Likely To Walk Into A Tree' could put so much intricate care into things he cherished. He left his rod by the box and sat down beside her, leaning back against the tree. A flock of ducks made their way slowly over to where he'd been fishing.

"See, even the ducks wanted you t' give up."

He didn't answer, and she turned to find him staring at her, his hazel eyes deep and thoughtful. He was so close to her. If she only leaned forward... Her heart beat loud enough that she was sure he could hear it.

"So what'd you get on your history test you were studyin' for," he asked, unaware of the thought he'd interrupted.

She sighed inwardly and looked away. "I passed..."

"I didn't ask ya' if ya' passed. What did ya' get on it?"

"...a D..._plus_," she laughed.

"Daisy, you're smarter'n that! You'd have straight "A's" if ya' paid more attention in class and less to th' back end of Jake Tolliver."

She elbowed him. "I do no such thing!" Jake Tolliver was a year younger than Daisy and about as homely as they came.

"Yeah, right," he grinned. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me!" He made like he was zipping his lips. " At least until I tell Luke..."

She gave him a shove. "Enos Strate! You tell him a lie like that and I'll...I'll tell Amy you'd be happy to take her to th' school dance next month!" She'd forgotten what she'd witnessed between Enos and Amy earlier that week until after she'd said it, but luckily the comment still evoked the expected response.

"Shucks, Daisy, I'm just pickin' at ya'," he grumbled. "There ain't no need t' get nasty about it." He stood up and stretched, picked up their rods, and started up the bank towards the road. "We'd best get back before Uncle Jesse feeds our dinner to Maudeen."

Daisy stood, but didn't follow. Suddenly, the realization that he would be leaving in the morning, and that this was in all likelihood the last time they'd be together until Christmas struck her full force. Time seemed to stand still, waiting for her to do something...anything... Flustered, she said the first thing that came to her mind-

"Enos, have you ever kissed a girl?"

He stopped, sure he hadn't heard her right, and turned around. _"What?_"

Her heart raced as she tried to come up with an explanation for her forwardness that sounded plausible. "Well, ya' know, some of th' girls were talkin' at school...about, well about..._that_... and...well, I want to know what it's like...to kiss a _boy_, that is..."

Daisy silently congratulated herself on sounding like an idiot, but Enos was still reeling from her first question, and his brain hadn't caught up enough to think of anything to say. She walked over to him and slid her arms around his neck.

"Come on, it's not like I can ask my cousins. It wouldn't mean anything, I promise" she said, sweetly, "just..an experiment is all."

He looked down at her, confused. "Y...you..want me t...t' _kiss_ you?"

"Sure, what's the big deal? I'm your best friend, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but..." He'd never thought of Daisy in any context other than that, not that he didn't...

"So?"

"Umm...okay, I guess..." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"Not like that, silly...like _this_..."

Arching her body into Enos', she pressed her lips gently to his for a long moment before letting him go and smiling up at him.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She picked up the rods that he'd dropped and started up the hill. "Come on, we'd better get back. Uncle Jesse's gonna tan my hide if I'm late for supper again."

He watched her go, unable to move, his heart pounding. The moment her lips had touched his, the life he knew had ended. All the days spent with her - the tears, the laughter, all that they had shared together through the years blazed to life in his memory, lit by a desire he was unaware he possessed. There had always been something deeper than friendship between them for as long as he could remember...an incorporate, intangible, nameless emotion that bound him to her as though she carried with her a piece of his very soul.

Now, in the light of her kiss, he knew it for what it was...and it's name was _love_.

But...it was all _wrong_. He watched her as she climbed the bank, numbed not only by his sudden revelation, but by the fact that she had thought it all a game. _"It wouldn't mean anything..." _The words rang hollowly through his mind. What had she done to him? She'd opened his eyes with that single kiss, and he knew as hard as he might try, he would never be able to close them again.

The walk home was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

><p>The friction between Daisy and Enos at supper was palpable. Enos picked silently at his food, eating little and talking even less. He dared not look up, knowing that Daisy could read him as well as any book. She would know something was wrong, and she would pick at him until he confessed. What would he say? That what had meant nothing to <em>her<em> had changed his life forever? That he could no longer remember a time when he hadn't been in love with her? What then? Would she laugh - or would she look at him with those beautifully intoxicating, hazel eyes and tell him how sorry she was...

)()()()(

He wouldn't look at her. Not since the pond...not a word...not a glance... nothing. It was all Daisy could do to keep from crying out in front of everyone, and tell him she was sorry. In her anguish, she misread his silence, believing that he'd never felt anything more for her than simple friendship and that her forwardness had driven him away. What had she hoped? That he'd of wanted her as she'd wanted him? For the first time in her life, she felt like they were strangers...and it was all her fault...

)()()()(

Uncle Jesse, Luke, and Bo shared amused looks between themselves across the table, wondering what Daisy and Enos had been fussing over this time. Like any close friends, they'd had their share of rifts before. Enos would be sullen or disappear outside to be alone, but it never lasted for long. Uncle Jesse said nothing, preferring to let them work it out on their own as they had always done in the past. He had no way of knowing that the misunderstanding between the two of them that day would stretch on and on, covering the years ahead until the bond they'd once shared between them was nothing more than a distant memory...

* * *

><p>It was barely light outside when the blue Mustang pulled up outside the farmhouse, but it wasn't soon enough for Enos. He hadn't been able to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, <em>she<em> was there, and he seemed powerless to keep from thinking about what had happened. She was only fifteen, he told himself, it was just a game to her, and she couldn't possibly understand what she'd done to him. He didn't know if he believed that or not, and he was torn between wanting everything to go back to the way it was and wanting to beat on her door and tell her how he felt. He'd chosen neither and instead had gathered his things and taken a seat in the dark kitchen, waiting for dawn and the ride back to the city he never dreamed he'd be escaping _to._

Daisy overslept, a consequence of laying awake most of the night wondering what Enos was thinking. The horn from the waiting car woke her suddenly, and she jumped out of bed, panicked that he would leave before she got a chance to say anything to him. She threw on a robe and rushed out of her room just as the kitchen door swung shut.

"Enos!" She ran after him onto the porch. "Enos, wait!"

He stopped and turned around, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since the day before at the pond. The scene gave him deja vu, though he doubted she was running out to give him a hug this time. She was probably just worried that he'd read too much into her actions the day before and was here to try and ease his mind, he guessed.

"Enos...I didn't mean anything by it," she pleaded, out of breath. "I swear."

He wished he hadn't been right. "Yeah, I know, Daisy," he said, somewhat annoyed. "Don't worry about it. I'll see ya' at Christmas."

"Promise?"

He sighed, and looked away, trapped in a corner by her question. What was he going to say? No? "Yeah...I'll be here." He motioned at the car behind him. "I gotta go."

She nodded slowly. He'd never lied to her before, but it was painfully obvious she'd forced him into his answer, and that he wanted nothing more than to get as far away from her as he could. The car drove away, leaving her alone on the quiet porch.


	9. Love and Other Misfortunes, Part 1

_A/N: There is a music video that I made that sort of goes along with the latter part of this story and into the series. FF net took all the links from everyone's profiles, but if you search Daisy and Enos and "Never Bloom Again" on YouTube, you'll find it. (Thanks to i1976 for introducing me to this awesome song!)  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>"You are far,<em>  
><em> when I could have been your star.<em>  
><em> You listened to people who scared you to death-<em>  
><em>and from my heart.<em>  
><em> Strange that I was wrong enough<em>  
><em> to think you'd love me, too.<em>  
><em> I guess you were kissing a fool..."<em>  
><em>-George Michael<em>

* * *

><p>Late December, 1969<p>

* * *

><p>"Dear Daisy,<p>

..."

The letter had sat, untouched and unwritten, on his desk for more than a month - it's unspoiled white lines seemed to mock him every time he passed it by, adding to his discomfiture day by day. Even now, as Enos lay on his bed, staring up at the plaster-board ceiling, he could almost feel it watching him, as though the dratted thing had sprouted eyes, arms, and legs and prowled around outside of his periphery, waiting for him to scribble down something other than her name and a descriptive that didn't quite capture the depths of what his heart really felt about her.

..._Daisy._..

The ceiling dissolved into the blue sky above Hazzard Pond and in his mind, he saw her face again - upturned towards his, her hazel eyes deep with hidden emotion. Slowly, she slid her arms around his neck and leaned up, pressing her lips to his. He pulled her closer to him and closed his eyes, deepening their kiss. His hands tangled in her hair...

At least that's how it _should_ have been, Enos thought, bitterly, if she could of shut her trap for two seconds about how it hadn't meant anything to her. Why'd she always have to qualify everything?

_"She's gonna be th' death of me, yet..."_ he muttered to himself.

He'd come back to Atlanta a different person - a blind man who had been given the gift of sight- realizing that everything he'd ever wanted had been before him all along and yet horribly out of his reach.

He hadn't known what to say to her afterwards, after she'd played it all off as some sort of deviant experiment. Now, four months after that fateful day (and could it really have been _that_ long ago?), he'd come to the enlightened conclusion that perhaps she hadn't quite meant what she'd said. In fact, the more he'd thought about it, the more her hurried explanation of why she wanted him to...to _kiss_ her, seemed about as phony as a three dollar bill.

What if, he'd thought brazenly, it had been an excuse to kiss _him? _It wouldn't have been the first time she'd used the old "I was just kidding" defense to get herself out of a sticky situation, and it was the only explanation that made sense -especially, he conceded, after his sour attitude at supper and then the next morning. Could she seriously believe that he felt nothing for her? It seemed incomprehensible - she knew him better than that...didn't she?

Enos rubbed at his weary eyes. _"I shoulda kissed her back..." _

He sat up and looked over at his desk, trying to ignore the white paper on it. On the wall behind the desk, hanging slightly crooked, was a calendar proclaiming it to be December. It's picture for the month suggested a whiter landscape than the one Atlanta currently enjoyed with a brilliant red Cardinal perched on a snow-covered, evergreen branch. Enos was reminded of the rat he'd seen that morning eating atop the dumpster behind the cafeteria. Lord, but he hated the city.

Today was the 22nd, only three days until Christmas again. His heart quickened. This year..._this_ year it would be different because, somehow - in some way that he hadn't decided on yet, he was going to talk to Daisy, and when he did he was going to tell her the truth.

He picked up a pencil from the desk and wrote a single sentence on the paper:

Dear Daisy,

_I love you._

-Enos

Grinning, he folded the paper and stuck it in his desk drawer before he headed off to his afternoon classes.

* * *

><p>Jeb Waller caught up with him on the way to his Constitutional Law class, and Enos, who'd been woolgathering instead of paying attention to anything around him nearly jumped out of his skin.<p>

"Sorry Strate, I didn't mean t' interupt your daydreamin'," he snickered.

Jeb and Dewey, being Enos' closest friends at the Academy, had finally managed to pry the whole story out of him over what had happened between him and the pretty girl that had seemed so distraught when they'd picked him up.

Enos frowned. "I wasn't daydreamin'. I was just..._thinkin'_."

Jeb ignored him. "Hey speakin' of which, you best be thinkin' about gettin' your rear end down to th' practice range once in a while if you want one of them Atlanta jobs."

The City of Atlanta Police Department, in cooperation with the Police Academy, was offering positions on the force to the two graduates from his class with the highest marks at the end of their training. Enos had high marks in all the book-work, but his tactical training left a pretty fair bit to be desired.

Enos shook his head. "Huh uh. I'm goin' back t' Hazzard after this," he said, "an' I don't need t' hit nothin' smaller than a rabid cow there."

"I can't believe you ain't even gonna try for it," Jeb said, giving him a disgusted look. "You've got th' best grade in all th' classes! Shucks, Enos, if you could hit th' broad side of a barn with them pea-shooters they issued us, you'd be a shoe-in."

He shrugged. "There's more important things than workin' on a big police force."

"And her name is D-A-I-S-Y," smirked Jeb.

* * *

><p>Dewey was already stretched out on his bed, listening to his records, when Enos got back to their dorm room from supper. Enos' musical appreciation had definitely been broadened by having the guy as a roommate, and though his own tastes ran more to the country side, the Doors song currently playing was a favorite of his. He took off his coat, draping it over the back of the chair before sitting down at his desk and opened his notebook as if he were studying, but as the song played, his eyes drifted to the picture lying beside his stack of comic books - of Daisy in her Hazzard High cheer-leading uniform that she'd sent him last month.<p>

_"...Now, I'm gonna love you 'till the heavens stop the rain. I'm gonna love you 'till the stars fall from the sky -"_

"Hey Strate," called Dewey over the music, "you got some mail."

Enos turned around to look at him and Dewey nodded towards Enos' bed where a single letter lay. He sighed, disappointed, because he knew in a glance it wasn't from Daisy or any of the Dukes. He picked it up and examined it. There was no return address, just his name and the general Academy address in a feminine script. Wondering who in the world it would be, he opened it up and took out the note inside.

_Enos,_  
><em>I know you probably already have plans, but I just wanted you to know that if you didn't, our family would love to have you come over for Christmas dinner. I hope you've had a great fall semester. Maybe we'll see each other around when you're home.<em>  
><em>Sincerely,<em>  
><em>Amy McCullum<em>

Without giving it much thought, Enos tossed the letter in his desk drawer, but then turned back and grabbed the letter he'd written to Daisy, slipping it into his coat pocket. He made a mental note to be sure and say hello to Amy if he saw her in town. Other than that, she was the last girl on his mind.

* * *

><p>As Enos' opinion of the incident at the pond had gotten closer to the truth, Daisy's had slipped further away from it as the months had passed. There had been no letters from him, not even a friendly generic one addressed to all the Dukes. In her mind, she could see no other explanation other than her forwardness had driven him away, and just the though of it was almost more than she could bear.<p>

After months of her trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact that something was wrong, Uncle Jesse'd had enough beating around the bush. The night before, he had stopped her as she was getting ready to go to bed to have one of _those_ talks - the ones where he knew something was wrong and expected to be told what it was. But instead of telling him the truth about what had happened between herself and Enos, Daisy had made up a story about some guy at school she liked, but that he didn't seem much interested in her.

"Oh! Well, why dontcha invite him over for Christmas dinner?" Uncle Jesse had said, relief evident in his voice. "I 'spect he might be doin' somethin' with his family, but if he's not I'm sure he'd appreciate th' offer."

Daisy figured he was just happy to hear her talking about any guy besides Enos. The whole thing was a lie though - she hardly gave any guys at school the time of day, much less wanted to spend Christmas dinner with them. She had wanted to talk to Enos alone, assuming he was even still coming. Maybe she should just tell him the truth, at least then she'd know where she stood.

"I guess I could do that, Uncle Jesse," she'd said, hoping he'd drop it.

She'd almost gotten away with being obscure, in which case she wasn't planning on asking _anyone_ over for Christmas dinner, but he'd stopped her before she got to her room.

"Who is he, anyway?"

She'd stopped dead in her tracks, her mind running through guys she knew well enough at school to make her lie believable. There was only one. She'd turned around and flashed her uncle what she hoped looked like a happy enough smile. "Darcy Kincaid."

Uncle Jesse had brightened immediately. "Oh, well now, I reckon he's a fine boy t' be askin' over," he'd said, reassuringly. "It'd be good for him to get out, too. His family's sure seen th' heartache this last year."

Darcy's mother had died in January after a long illness, and in April, his older brother, Allan, had been in a farming accident and been crushed to death underneath a two-ton International Harvester. Though ten years older than Darcy, the two had been extremely close.

Daisy, remembering Enos' reaction to his father's death and the process of healing he was at times still going through, was taken aback by Darcy's nonchalant demeanor about the whole thing. The fact that he'd gone on with life as though it were a stranger who'd died instead of his brother, she found not a little disturbing.

"Yeah, I guess he has."

The more she thought about it, the more she decided maybe it _would_ be a good idea to invite another guy over. If Enos was put off with the idea of her being interested in_ him_, it would at least make it look like she wasn't.

So that was the reason that today, on Monday the 22nd of December, Daisy was trying to find Darcy after school. She'd already checked the room where he had his last class, but she'd missed him, so she'd headed out towards the courtyard and the gym. He was sitting on a picnic table, along with three other guys from his senior class, and hadn't seen her yet. Daisy took a deep breath as she walked up to him.

"Hi Darcy."

He turned towards her, and she blushed. Something about the way he looked at her always made her feel slightly...exposed.

"Well, hey there, Daisy!" He slid off the table and came closer, putting his arm around her shoulders. Instead of cringing like she normally did, she let him. It wasn't as though he weren't attractive, and it was just for Christmas - then she'd go back to ignoring him. "To what do I owe this attention that you so rarely bestow on me, Beautiful?"

His arm was warm around her, holding her tight - almost possessively, against his taller frame, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself a second to imagine it was Enos instead of Darcy.

Darcy read her blush and took the completely wrong impression from it, thinking perhaps Daisy Duke wouldn't be so hard a nut to crack as he'd previously expected, especially with Enos gone away to Atlanta. He swore if he didn't know better, he'd think she was in love with that freak.

"I was wonderin' if you'd like t' come over for Christmas dinner on Thursday," she stammered, quickly. "I know you're probably busy, though, so it's not a big deal - "

Darcy pulled her around in front of him, holding her upper arms tightly. He beamed down at her. "Why Daisy, I'd love to."

She smiled back up at him, hoping she didn't look too disappointed by his acceptance. "Oh, alright then. Well, I guess I'd better..." He was still staring at her intensely. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Daisy," he said, shaking his head, "but has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

Now she _did_ blush because of him, unused to such flagrant displays of affection towards her. She dropped her eyes, half wishing herself somewhere else, half perversely enjoying his attention. "Uh...thanks, Darcy. I...um...I've gotta go."

"Okay," he said, releasing her. "Hey, why don't I pick ya' up after lunch Christmas Day? There's caroling on the town square at one o'clock. We'll make a date of it."

She shrugged. "I guess that'd be okay."

He smiled largely again, his white teeth a striking contrast to his perfectly tanned skin. "Alright then!" he said, overenthusiastic. "I'll see ya' Thursday."

"Bye Darcy."

She turned and walked away, missing the smug grin he gave the other guys sitting at the table.

* * *

><p>Enos had debated going up Hazzard on either Tuesday the 23rd after finals, or waiting until the next day. He'd wanted to get there in plenty of time to talk to Daisy before Christmas, but as it so happened, the weather made up his mind for him. Sleet and freezing rain started on Tuesday before his class was over, and the roads were a mess until Christmas morning when he awoke to a steady downpour of rain instead.<p>

Not wanting to waste more time, he hopped in his car shortly after lunch and started the two hour drive up to Hazzard. At least Christmas was on Thursday this year, and since they'd already had finals, classes didn't begin again until January 5th.

On the passenger's seat was a box, about six inches square and wrapped in red and green striped paper - the one gift he'd scraped his money together to buy. Since both he and the Dukes were as poor as church mice, they had a custom of drawing names out of a hat each Christmas to see who they'd be buying a gift for the next year. If you were a guy, you could usually count on a pocket knife or some other camping tool, but poor Daisy always bore the brunt of being the only girl in a family of rowdy boys. If Luke and Bo couldn't think of anything to get each other, they were doubly clueless when it came to picking a gift for a woman.

Last Christmas, for the first time since he was thirteen, Enos had picked Daisy's name. Usually he was at a loss as to what to get her as well - and it didn't help that her gift always had to be nicer to make up for her birthday being on the 11th of the same month, but this year he'd found something he thought she might actually like.

He'd been wasting time, walking down one of the streets near the Academy, when he had passed a small five and dime store. Not even thinking about Christmas yet, he walked in to buy a couple new pencils and some notebook paper when he'd seen it...The Perfect Gift. He'd spent the money he'd saved up for a new left rear shock for his race car on it instead, unable to pass it by. He grinned, thinking of how her eyes would light up when she saw it.

It took him longer than normal to get to Hazzard County. The ice and rain had washed out the bridge on his shortcut, so he was forced to backtrack fifteen miles to a larger highway. It was after 3:00pm when he pulled his car around back of the Dukes' barn. He grabbed the gift and hopped out.

It hadn't rained as much here in Hazzard as it had in Atlanta. The ground was damp, but not soaked, and the dirt was still dry underneath the eaves of the barn. Still, something struck him as 'off', and it wasn't until he tripped going up the steps to the porch that it suddenly struck him what it was.

He was _nervous_. Anxiety, like a live wire, buzzed through him, making his hands sweaty and his legs feel a bit wobbly. He stopped before he opened the door and took a deep breath.

_"For cryin' out loud, it's only Daisy,"_ he whispered to himself, but the butterflies in his stomach stubbornly refused to listen.

He opened the front door, knocking on it as he came in. The kitchen was filled with good smells, and several pies sat cooling on the counter and a ham, already sliced up and covered with foil, rested on top of the stove, keeping warm. Otherwise the kitchen was abandoned.

"Hey there," he called, "anybody home?"

Instead of Daisy coming around the corner into the kitchen, it was Vance.

"Hey there, Enos! We were expectin' you last night or th' day before." He glanced out the window. "What happened? Couldn't get away?"

Enos sat the box down on the table and shrugged out of his coat. "Hey Vance, naw, th' roads were plum awful down towards Atlanta 'till today. Y'all didn't get any ice?"

"Yeah, we got a little, mostly rain, though, an' its supposed t' start pourin' here in no time. Don't worry, you didn't miss nothin'." Vance took a coffee cup out of the cupboard and poured himself some from the old tin pot on the stove. He glanced back at Enos. "You want some coffee?"

"No, thanks." Enos wandered past Vance into the living room and looked around. Everything was quiet. "Say, is Daisy here?"

Vance nearly choked on his drink, but Enos' back was to him and he didn't notice. "No, um...she went carolin', I think. Down at th' square." He looked at the clock on the wall. "She oughta be back soon."

"Oh. Alright. Where's everyone else?"

"Uncle Jesse an' Bo went to deliver some pies over to the Orphan's Home. I think Luke's got a date."

Enos snorted. "Figures. About Luke, I mean."

"Yeah, funny about them things," said Vance, cryptically, "I'm gonna go...uh... take a nap."

Vance felt like he was witnessing a train-wreck in the making - with one line named Enos and one line named Darcy, and they were about to meet head-on in the little town of Daisy-ville. Whatever was going on between Daisy and Enos, he was sure bringing another guy into the mix wasn't going to help anything. He for one wasn't planning on being around when someone got their heart broken. Figuring that he wouldn't be around until supper, Vance went down to Luke's room to take a nap, shutting the door behind him.

Enos looked around the quiet living room, already bored, and decided with no one else in the house, now was the best time to actually get a _hot_ shower instead of waiting in line for a cold one the next morning. He picked up Daisy's present from the table and set it under the tree with the others before heading to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Darcy, much to Daisy's surprise and relief, had been a perfect gentleman during their "date" as he'd referred to it. As the afternoon wound down, she found herself pulled in two completely opposite directions. On one hand, she was fairly sure that all the sweet comments he'd made to her were just recycled from all the other girls he'd gone out with, but on the other hand...it felt good to hear them said to <em>her<em>, and hadn't she told herself that it was just for today? Why not play along for a little while - even if it wasn't Darcy Kincaid she wanted to hear those things from.

So, she'd let herself have fun, and she was still laughing at a joke he'd made as he opened the front door at the farmhouse and held it for her.

* * *

><p>Enos had dressed and was drying his hair off with a towel when he heard Daisy come through the door. His heart lept - until he heard the voice of the other person who had come in with her. He gritted his teeth. Of all the people... what th' heck was <em>Darcy<em> doing here?

He hung the towel back up, opened the door, and walked as quietly as he could from the bathroom into the living room. Unnoticed by either Darcy or Daisy, Enos folded his arms and leaned casually against the wall dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house, in plain view of them both.

* * *

><p>"I didn't know you were so funny," Daisy said, as Darcy closed the door behind them. Her eyes wet with tears from laughing so hard.<p>

"Oh, there's a lot of things you don't know about me." He pulled Daisy back in front of him, just inside the door. "I'd sure like you t' get t' know me better, Daisy," he said, charmingly.

Daisy blushed and looked down. Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy noticed Enos - standing quietly against the wall, watching Daisy.

"Daisy, would you mind if I kissed you?"

"Huh?" She looked back up at him, surprised by the request. "Uh...I...I guess not." It wasn't as if anyone else was standing in line.

Instead of the chaste kiss she expected, though, Darcy swept her up in his arms and kissed her, open mouthed, taking her breath away. She wasn't sure how long a time passed before he broke the kiss and released her. Slightly dazed, she turned into the kitchen, but stopped and would have fallen had she not caught herself against the table. There, leaning against the wall, his eyes full of thinly disguised fury, was Enos.

If Enos had ever had any doubts as to how he felt about the girl who'd been his best friend for as long as he could remember, they were erased in a burning rain of jealousy as he watched her kiss Darcy. He was unable to tear his eyes away from them, the image searing itself into his mind for all time. It might have been a few seconds, or a few hours, until it was over and he released her. She looked up and saw him, her face a mask of shock and embarrassment , and he knew in that instant she could read everything in his eyes.

"Enos..."

He took a deep breath and, in a split second, his demeanor shifted - so quickly and so completely that for years afterward, Daisy was never sure if she had really seen the raw anger that had been there at first or if she'd only imagined it.

"Hey, Daisy," he said, calmly, "I'm sorry t' bother you. I just um...wanted t' bring your gift over before I went on out to my ma's."

If Daisy had been shocked before, she was even more so by Enos' detached attitude. That and she'd never known him to voluntarily go out to his mother's house. Before she could stop him, Enos had grabbed his coat and slipped past Darcy, out the door.

"Stay here," she told Darcy. Panicked, she ran out the door after Enos. "Enos, wait!" He was almost around the barn and to his car, but his pant leg caught on a nail sticking out of a pile of old boards and he was forced to stop and untangle himself. Daisy caught his arm before he could walk off again. "Stop, Enos, just -"

Enos flashed her a smile that didn't even come close to being real. "Listen, Daisy, I've gotta go. Tell everyone I said hi."

"If this is about Darcy..."

"I'm sure he's fine, Daisy. I'm happy for you...I am," he insisted. "Now, really, I've gotta go."

Gently, he pulled her hand away from his arm and turned away from her, walking around the barn to his car. She watched him as he drove away, unsure of what to think. Through the entire conversation, he'd never once looked at her. She'd expected him to make fun of her - to tease her...him running away was the last thing she'd anticipated. Running away meant...she felt sick...running away meant that she might have made a serious lapse in judgment.

She'd assumed he'd been put off by her forwardness. What if..._what if..._

The words she'd told him that day at the pond came back to her, but in a different light. _"It wouldn't mean anything,"_ she'd told him.

But what if that kiss _had_ meant something - to _him_? What if he'd been upset because he'd thought it hadn't meant anything to_ her_, and now she'd proven it - right in front of him.

* * *

><p>Enos drove by rote up into the hills, not really knowing - or caring, where he was going. He finally pulled over and got out at the end of Ridge Runner Road. Here, on top of the ridge, the foothills of the Blue-Ridge mountains spread out before him in the distance. Usually it was a breathtaking view, but today it was dull and gray, the rainclouds hanging so low that the tops of the distant mountains were invisible above them. He picked up a rock and chucked it with all his might across the ravine in front of him.<p>

He was a fool. A damn, idiotic, naive, half-witted moron. How on earth had he ever come up with the blasted notion that Daisy felt anything more for him than simple friendship? He'd been so sure that he'd had her all figured out, and the fact that he'd not even been on the same page was a serious blow to his self confidence where she was concerned.

"Darcy? _Really?_" he shouted to the mountains.

That guy was dumber than a box of rocks. What the heck would Daisy see in _him_? Everyone knew his reputation with girls, and Enos burned with a dozen different shades of rage and jealousy imagining Darcy's paws on her.

Enos shoved his hands in his coat pockets as the wind picked up, bringing with it the first drops of cold rain. His fingers closed around a piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out and unfolded it, expecting it to be the note he'd written to Daisy. It wasn't. It was the letter from Amy.

He sighed. Maybe it was a sign, the wrong letter being in his pocket. Either way, he wasn't going back to the farm – no how, no way – not with Darcy there. Raising his head, he looked up at the darkening sky as the raindrops struck his face.

For the first time in his life, he was truly alone...

* * *

><p><em>AN: For those of you keeping track: Enos' birthday – April 2, 1952; Daisy's birthday - December 11, 1953_

_The Doors song was "Touch Me" and was a big hit in 1969.  
><em>


	10. Love and Other Misfortunes, Part 2

_"__I never thought that life could be so unkind,  
>until I lost you.<br>No more times by the lake in June,  
>no more walks beneath the moon...<em>

_We talked for hours over things we believed in,_  
><em>caring for each other,<br>hand in hand through life_ _before you left me standing all alone  
>- helpless without you."<br>-Saigon Kick_

* * *

><p>In a large farmhouse set high on the ridge between Hazzard and Choctaw Counties - some eighteen miles northwest of the Dukes as the crow flies, Christmas dinner was almost ready. It had been a good year, what with corn prices low and whiskey prices high, and the McCullums were among the families who knew how to make a dollar stretch as far as it could.<p>

A girl – almost seventeen, with long, golden, untamed curls that seemed to dance about her head with a mind of their own, gathered six plates from the oak china cabinet in the small dining room and set them on the table. Inspecting the first one, she sighed at the thin layer of dust on it. The good plates were only used for special occasions, and so she'd come prepared, wiping each one down with a clean cloth before setting it in turn around the table.

"Momma," she called into the adjoining kitchen, "does Paulie need a big plate?"

Paulie was her four year old nephew, her eldest brother, Alex's, son.

A woman in her mid-50's, with a kind face and chestnut hair in large roller-curls, peeked from around the corner. "Oh, let's go ahead and give him one, Amy." She grinned. "It'll make him feel special."

Amy grinned back and set another place. No sooner had she done so than she was grabbed from behind and slung around, a hand over her eyes. She laughed.

"Brody!" The man set her down, and she spun around to hug her brother.

"Hey, sis! Long time, no see."

After he'd graduated high-school two years prior, Brody McCullum had gone north and had landed a job with Boeing in Everett, Washington, building 747 transport planes. That he'd not only gotten out of the hills, but had moved to the other side of the country had been gossip for nearly a year around town.

"Oh my gosh! When did you get in?" She noted it must be raining again, he was soaked.

"Just now," he answered, shedding his water-logged coat. "I tell you what, though. I'm sure glad I flew into Nashville instead of Atlanta. They're gettin' some nasty stuff down that way."

Alex McCullum came up from behind and wrapped his younger brother in a tight bear hug. "Hey!" he called back towards their father who was smiling from the doorway, "I caught a stray! Should we send him back or keep him?"

So it went, with the family happily together once again.

* * *

><p>The mood in the Duke's kitchen was a grab-bag of mixed emotions. Luke, Vance, and Bo had taken to avoiding Daisy until supper - she'd seemed greatly put-off by something, and Luke wondered if maybe it had something to do with her so-called "date". He knew just as well as every other guy what Darcy was all about, and he had a mind to talk to Uncle Jesse about it tomorrow. Not only that, but Darcy's overbearing, play-acting attempts to be chummy with him were enough to make Luke want to whack the guy upside the head.<p>

Luke was sure he wasn't the only one who felt like something was amiss when it came time to eat. This was the first year he could remember that Enos wasn't with them. Granted the guy got on his last nerve sometimes, but he was practically family for crying out loud. It wasn't right for him not to be here, and Luke didn't know why he'd hadn't at least stayed until everyone got back from town before leaving.

"Where'd you say Enos ran off to?" he asked Daisy, as he helped himself to a plate of ham before passing it on to Bo's eager hands.

"I already told you, Luke" she snapped, irritated, "he said he was goin' t' see his mother."

Luke looked up from his plate. "Well, there ain't no call t' get grumpy about it. I just don't understand's all."

"Well, now, I'm sure if he comes around later or t'morrow mornin' he'll fill us in," said Uncle Jesse. "Though it ain't like him t' miss Christmas dinner." He was quiet a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. "I sure hope Agnes is alright. Come t' think of it, I ain't seen her around town lately."

"That ol' bat couldn't be bothered unless somebody's dead or dyin'," Luke muttered.

Uncle Jesse looked sternly at him. "Luke, that ain't how I raised you t' talk about other people, specially not when we have a guest."

"Yes sir," muttered Luke.

Darcy smiled winningly. "Oh, never mind me, Uncle Jesse. I'm just happy t' be here."

Jesse first impression of Darcy had been that he wasn't anything like his father who he knew as a down-to-earth, quiet man, that would just about do anything for a friend. He wasn't sure what to think of this boy with the syrupy smile and false enthusiasm, but he nodded anyway. "Well, we're happy you could come, Darcy. But I ain't your Uncle Jesse."

Darcy's smile faltered a bit. "Sorry, Mr. Duke."

* * *

><p>Happy reunions aside, Amy and her mother had loaded the table down with food and had finally gathered everyone together to sit down and eat.<p>

Not able to get enough of Alex's two year old daughter, Sarah Jane, Amy had planted the child's highchair next to her own chair and was feeding her bites of sweet-potato casserole while listening happily to several conversations at once.

She sighed contentedly. It had been so long since everyone had been together like this. Alex, his wife Carrie, and their two children lived up in Knoxville and, although not a terribly long ways away, there never seemed to be enough time to make a visit. Brody might as well have moved to Siberia as Washington State - this was the first time he'd made it down since the summer before last.

She was the last one left - the baby of the family, and though she knew her father would like to see her leave the hills as well someday, she had a feeling she never would. It wasn't a regret - more a resignation. This life was all she knew, and she was comfortable with that. Moonshining was in her blood and, though she'd never in her wildest dreams admit it, she found the danger exciting and to some degree romantic - alone in the middle of nowhere at night, with only her dreams and the stars above her.

Amy was still reminiscing when there was a knock at the door.

Talking suddenly ceased, and for a moment everyone held their breath as they glanced at each other around the table. In a home where moonshining paid the bills, strangers knocking at the door was always a cause for alarm. In fact, the only one who immediately thought of something different was Amy. For a split second her heart seemed as though it might fly from her chest.

"I'll get it," she said, getting shakily to her feet.

All eyes followed her out of the dining room. The knock came again.

Amy turned the lamp back on in the empty living room, her eyes automatically flicking to the shotgun resting beside the door before she unbolted the lock and opened it. For a moment, she could only stare in disbelief. Not in a million years would she have ever dared to hope -

There on her doorstep, standing in the rain, was Enos.

He looked up at her nervously, and she got the distinct feeling that if she did not do precisely the right thing, he might bolt off into the woods - like a frightened deer or some other woodland creature, unaccustomed to human interaction.

"Hi Amy, um...I'm...uh...I'm sorry t' bother you."

She smiled slightly. "You're not botherin' anyone, Enos. You're just in time for supper." She held the door open for him and took a step back. "Come on in."

He hesitated before mumbling a thanks and brushing past her into the living room. It had been a long time since he'd been here, at least three years, maybe more. It hadn't changed much - the same over-sized brown couch against the far wall with Mrs. McCullum's shelf of nick-nacks above it and the huge Vermont wood-burning stove taking up most of the left side of the room, and he suddenly felt himself being drawn back through the years, back into his childhood. So easily could he imagine his pa' out on their porch, talking to Henstep, that a lump stuck in his throat. He swallowed several times.

Amy watched him silently, wondering if he was remembering the last time he had been in her house. After a long minute, whatever had stalled him seemed to pass. His face cleared and he ran his hands through his wet hair, shaking the rain out until it was damp and spiky instead of plastered to his head.

"Here, give me your coat," she said. "I'll hang it by th' stove so it'll dry." She waited while he took it off and then draped it over a chair that sat close to the stove. "Come on," she motioned him to follow her, "Everyone's here, an' I'll bet you ain't seen Alex in forever."

"Hey!" Amy called into the room ahead of her, "look who came!"

Enos followed her into the cozy dining room where everyone was eating, feeling suddenly very out of place with all eyes on him. Her parents both got up and came over to them.

"Enos! It's sure good t' see you, son," said her father, shaking his hand. "We've been hearin' lots of good things about you down at that Academy."

"Thanks, Mr. McCullum," he replied, shyly. "I'm tryin' my best."

"Your pa' sure would be proud of ya'. I reckon Amy's prob'ly told you he ain't the only one."

"Yes sir, she did, last time I's down." Enos glanced at Amy's mother, who was smiling happily. "Hi, Mrs. McCullum. Thanks for invitin' me."

Alice McCullum, who'd had no idea that Amy had invited him, played along anyway. "Oh, Enos, you know you're always welcome here, dear." She gave him a warm hug that reminded him distantly of Aunt Lavinia. "Now...you just come an' sit yourself down, an' Amy'll get you a plate. I don't know what they feed you at the Academy, but I'd wager it ain't as good as these here mashed potatoes, collard greens, and ham. "

He laughed. "No ma'am. It ain't even close."

* * *

><p>Darcy hadn't stuck around long after supper and Daisy had seen him off with only a vague attempt to be cheerful while the others retired to the living room. After a few minutes she joined them, choosing the seat next to the window that looked out onto the road.<p>

Uncle Jesse turned down the lights and they sang carols while bathed in the soft colors from the Christmas tree lights. Ordinarily, it was Daisy's favorite tradition, and she would always make sure and sit next to Enos. He had a wonderful voice, but he never sang, and unless he happened to be going to church with them it was the only time she got to hear it. Her heart wasn't in singing this year. She kept one ear tuned to the driveway, hoping to eventually hear the sounds of a car pulling in, but all was quiet and still.

After they'd sung the last song, Bo hopped up and turned the lamp back on. "It's my turn t' be Santa this year!" He was fairly dancing with anticipation.

"Uh, well, alright," said Uncle Jesse, motioning to the ten year old. "Go ahead."

Bo grabbed a brightly colored package from under the tree. "Here ya' go, Uncle Jesse. I got your name this year. I hope ya' like it."

Jesse unwrapped the paper to find a shiny new whiskey flask. "Well, looky here," he said, examining it carefully. "This is just what I needed." He looked up at the beaming child. "Thank you, Bo, that was mighty thoughtful."

"You're welcome, Uncle Jesse!" He scrambled back to the tree and fished out a long, thin one. "Hey, this one's for me from Daisy!"

"Well, go ahead, silly," she said, "open it up."

He tore the paper off. It was a new fishing rod. "Wow! Thanks, Daisy! This sure is a swell one!"

"Yeah, well, don't be loosin'_ this_ one in Possum Swamp."

Luke was next, and received a new shifting knob for his race car from Uncle Jesse.

The next present was to Enos from Luke. "I guess Enos can open his t'morrow," said Bo, setting it back under the tree.

Vance had already had Christmas with his and Coy's families and wasn't part of the usual gift exchange, so with all but her present accounted for, Daisy knew Enos must have gotten her name. He'd said that, though, hadn't he? That he'd come by to drop off her gift.

"Oh, hey," said Bo, pulling a small box out from under the tree, "this one's for Daisy. I guess Enos brought it by before he left."

Bo handed it to her. It was heavy, but in a box so the shape gave her no clue what it was. She tore the paper off and opened up the box.

"Well, don't just stare at it," complained Luke. "Show us what it is."

She reached in and gently pulled it out. It was shaped like a large snow globe, but inside the globe, instead of a Christmas scene, there was a beautiful yellow rose -moving and swaying in the water as though it were alive and being blown by the breeze. It sat on a heavy wooden base which had a key in the side that turned a music box, and inscribed around the middle of the base were the words:

"_A single rose can be my garden ~ a single friend, my world."_

Something between a cough and a choked sob was all that she uttered before running with it to her room and shutting the door behind her.

"Wonder what got into her?" asked Luke, turning to his uncle.

Uncle Jesse shook his head. He wasn't sure what to make of Daisy's odd behavior, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the guy who'd been missing all evening. "I dunno, Luke," he said. "I s'pose if she wants us t' know, she'll tell us."

Later that night when Jesse went to check on her, he found her curled up, sound asleep on her bed - her pillow damp with tears and Enos' gift clasped tightly in her arms.

* * *

><p>After supper, the McCullum family gathered back in the living room, bringing their chairs from the dining room with them, while Amy and her parents sat on the couch. Enos sat on the floor, his back against the side she was on, watching the children play while everyone else chit-chatted around him. Feeling like he didn't really belong there, he tried to make himself as invisible as he could, and tried to think of a polite way to excuse himself and leave, though he had nowhere to go but to his mother's house. He couldn't face Daisy again, at least not tonight.<p>

His mind wandered, trying to come up with any other options. He supposed he could go out to one of Uncle Jesse's still sites, but with his luck they'd show up there to run a batch. Holidays were the best times for making moonshine since even the revenuers took Christmas off.

His thoughts were cut short by Henstep rising from the couch and taking his coat down from the hook beside the door.

"Well, I think th' rain's done passed on. I guess I'd better get to it if I want t' grab some shut-eye before you kids have t' head out t'morrow," the man said, shrugging on his coat. "I let that mash set up any more an' it's gonna go over."

"Oh, no, Pop," said Amy, hopping up, "you go ahead an' sit down. I'll go run it."

Her father hesitated and looked as though he'd like to take her up on the offer, but instead he shook his head. "Amy, you've got company. 'Sides, I really don't like th' idea of you all by yourself out there."

"I could go with her," offered Enos. As soon as he said it, he cringed, thinking that one or more people might get the wrong impression. "That is if you an' Amy don't mind, sir. I know it's been a long time since you've had your family all together."

Henstep cleared his throat and gave Enos a puzzled look. As fond as he knew Amy was of the boy, he'd never reckoned it for the other way around. Still... "Well...that's mighty nice of ya', Enos. I don't mind, but I reckon it's up to Amy."

"Sure. That's fine, Pop." She tried not to blush, knowing that it likely wasn't because of her Enos was willing to go.

They grabbed their coats and headed out the door, Amy taking the shotgun with her as they left.

As she drove through the dark roads in her father's pick-up, she struggled with exactly what to make of the situation. She'd heard some interesting rumors at school earlier that week, and she had a feeling his being here had more to do with Daisy than herself. Though she'd had quite a few daydreams about being alone with the guy sitting across the cab from her, she highly doubted tonight would play out like any of those.

She stole a quick glance at Enos. He was staring silently out his window, and if the tenseness of his posture said anything it was that he wasn't all that comfortable – either with whatever had happened to bring him here in the first place, or being alone with her. Amy figured it was probably both.

* * *

><p>Enos watched the scenery go by, knowing intuitively even in the dark where they were and where they were going. He counted the bumps they passed and watched the sides of the road for the jewel-like eyes of deer reflecting the truck's headlights. Anything to keep his mind off of the movie that played over and over behind his eyes.<p>

The McCullums' still was only about ten miles away from their farmhouse, and it wasn't long before Amy pulled the truck over to the side of the road.

In the moment between her turning off the truck lights and her finding the flashlight, the woods were cloaked in utter darkness. Enos raised his head, watching as the clouds moved swiftly across the sky, their edges illuminated by the half moon shining behind them. The smell of the rain permeated the air – more of an 'unscent' than a true fragrance itself, and it was one of the few times that he could not smell the forest that he knew stood all around him nor the mud from the rutted dirt road.

Amy switched on the flashlight, bathing the path before them harsh, artificial light. Enos followed her.

The McCullums' still sat in a small clearing beside Crooked Creek. Enos took a seat in one of the lawn-chairs there and watched Amy with detached fascination as she lit the fire in the furnace, removed the top of the boiler which held the fermented mash and connected it instead to the thump keg. After all the years he'd grown up in the hills, he wondered if she realized it was the first time he'd actually seen a still in action. If his pa' knew what he was doin'... but he didn't and never would. Otis Strate slept beneath the quiet trees at Pine Ridge Cemetery.

His father...Aunt Lavinia...now _Daisy_. Of the three people who had been the most important to him in his life, two were gone forever and the third one...

He recalled the day his mother tried to take him away from Hazzard, forever for all he'd known, and that he could not bear the thought of never seeing Daisy again. It was Daisy who had brought him back, both physically to Hazzard and spiritually to the world of the living - practically kicking and screaming at times, but she'd never given up on him. He shuddered to think of who or where he would be without her.

The morning after he'd come back home, she had been there. He closed his eyes, the memory of her fingers softly brushing his cheek for a moment displacing the bitter one from earlier that day. He had loved her even then, though he hadn't known the word for it. They had always been so..._close_, and he had taken for granted that nothing would ever change. He'd never stopped to think of her as _his_, or he as hers, because they just _were_. They had always seemed to belong to each other, though no words were ever spoken of it.

Amy watched Enos warily from her own lawn chair across from him. "So..."

His head jerked up towards Amy. He'd completely forgotten about her.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "It's been a long day."

She nodded. "I know why you're here."

His heart skipped a beat, thinking perhaps one of the Dukes called them, wondering where he was, but he dismissed the idea. Amy was the last person Daisy would expect him to be with. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Well, I mean...I guess I don't really know why you're _here,_" she admitted, "but I know about Daisy - an' Darcy."

If the fire had been brighter, she would have seen his blush. "How th' heck did _you_ know about that?"

"It's been all over th' school this week, 'bout how Daisy asked him out," she said, gently, unknowingly driving another nail into his heart. "I'm really sorry."

It was the honest truth. No matter how she felt about him, she didn't like to see him hurt.

He shrugged indifferently. "Why would I care about that? I reckon it ain't none of my business who she dates."

"You're really gonna sit here an' tell me that?" she asked in disbelief. "I ain't stupid, Enos."

Their eyes met and she held his gaze as he regarded her solemnly. Abruptly, he stood up. "I shouldn't of come here," he said as he walked past her, towards the trail and the road.

Amy caught his arm. "Enos, stop." He did, but continued to stare straight ahead, as though keeping his escape route in his line of sight. "Look...I'm sorry. I...I just don't want you to think I've gotten the wrong impression," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I know you're not here for me."

He turned to her, his eyes locking on hers. "Don't tell me this ain't what you've been waitin' for, Amy," he said, quietly, a touch of anger behind his words. "Daisy t' find someone else. I ain't stupid, either."

She flushed. "I am _not_ that kind of person, Enos Strate!"

Her words seemed to unsettle him, to bring him back to the present, and he dropped his eyes, embarrassed. "Shucks, I'm...I'm sorry, Amy," he said, shaking his head, "ain't no call for me t' talk to ya' like that." He went back and sat down in his chair. "I'm just...I ain't myself right now."

"It's okay," she sighed, "I didn't expect you would be."

She went back to the still, and tried to turn the lever on the end of the copper worm that stuck out of the cooling barrel. "You know what I wish?" she asked, still messing with the lever, "I wish you could forget how I was such a pest around you when we were younger, maybe you'd let me be your friend without draggin' that up..." She picked up a rock and whacked the lever with it. "Dang it!"

Enos went over to where she knelt, smacking the lever with a small rock, and saw that it had rusted shut. He motioned her out of the way. "Here, let me try." He grasped the lever with both hands and pulled as hard as he could until it broke free, then closed it again, not sure she was supposed to be loosing the moonshine.

"Thanks. Leave it open for a minute. You drink th' first stuff t' come outta there, you'll be tryin' on robes and halos."

He sat back down and watched while Amy let about a gallon run out into the creek before re-closing the lever. She wiped her hands against her jeans and took her seat across from him once again. He looked away and they sat in silence, each lost in their own worlds.

Amy was desperately trying to think of something to say to him. As much as the subject wasn't perhaps the lightest, she wanted to hear him talk - to see for once inside his mind. To her knowledge, Daisy was the only one who'd ever seen him loose his temper, and tonight was the first time she could remember ever being privy to any other emotion of his but polite indifference. She had been under the impression, along with most everyone else in Hazzard, that the two of them were practically engaged and merely waiting for him to graduate and her to turn eighteen before getting married. Apparently Enos and Daisy hadn't gotten the memo.

"So, what are you gonna do?" she asked, finally.

He looked back at her, his eyes dark and brooding. "About what?'

She shrugged. "Well, I'm sure my parents would be happy t' let you stay until school starts back, but they're gonna wonder why you ain't over at th' Dukes so I'd have t' do some explainin'. You can get away with crashin' on th' couch 'till tomorrow since you're out here with me. Mom an' Pop'll just think you're catchin' up on sleep."

"Oh." He'd been thinking she meant about Daisy, not about where he was going to stay. "I guess I'll just go back to the Academy tomorrow," he said, with resignation. "I really need t' spend some time out on th' shooting range if I want t' get on at the Atlanta Police Department."

"Atlanta! I though you were comin' back..." Suddenly she understood. "Oh."

"There ain't much here for me anymore, I reckon." He got up and wandered away, over to the edge of the woods, gazing out into the darkness.

She would've liked to tell him that it wasn't true - that there were plenty of people, herself especially, that would like to be there for him, but she held her tongue, knowing it wasn't what he wanted to hear. Instead she gathered the jars that her father had stashed away for this batch, re-opened the lever, and filled them one by one with the whiskey before placing them back in their crates. An hour passed without another word between them.

As she worked, it occurred to her that perhaps there was an opportunity here to set right some things that she wished she'd done differently. If he needed a friend, then she could be the best one that he had...nothing more...well, at least not _right now_ anyway. Call it a long term plan, if you will. She'd waited sixteen years for Enos to give her the time of day, she could stand to wait a couple more.

He was sitting down again, watching her quietly. She took a deep breath.

"You can't stay in Atlanta forever, you know," she told him. "There's holidays an' times when the school'll be closed an' stuff."

He looked up at her, but didn't answer, waiting for her to make her point.

"Well, what I mean is...if there's somethin' you want t' do, or you'd like someone to talk to...just as a _friend_...I wouldn't get th' wrong idea."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, alright, Amy. I'll think about it." He stood up and walked over to the crates of moonshine. "Are we done here?"

It was as close to a truce between them as she was going to get right now, and she knew it. Smiling, she picked up a crate and handed it to him.

"Yep, all done."

* * *

><p>Enos didn't take the McCullums' up on the offer of their couch for the night, preferring instead to drive straight on to Atlanta.<p>

He reached the city just as the morning sun was lighting up the horizon, but as the new day dawned, he found his eyes drawn to the west where the night was quickly dissolving - the night that carried before it so many years of warmth and love and happiness, now drawn to a close. Forever afterwards Enos would remember that Christmas with an ache in his heart, because that was the day he lost everything...the day he lost his Daisy.

* * *

><p><em>AN:The gift - this is setting on Daisy's nightstand next to her bed in Witness for the Persecution. I was looking up famous quotes about flowers and this one was the first one I found and I thought it fit Enos and Daisy so well. It is by Leo Buscaglia (don't know who that is, lol)...__A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world.__  
><em>


	11. Through a Glass, Darkly, Part 1

_"I won't cry for yesterday -_  
><em> there's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.<em>  
><em> And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world<em>  
><em> I will learn to survive..."<em>  
><em> -Duran Duran<em>

* * *

><p>May 1970<p>

* * *

><p>The first weak rays of morning light crept slowly through the window beside the bed, filling the room with soft, gray shadows. It was early - too early by hours for class, but that fact mattered little to the room's resident insomniac. Though it promised escape from the world around him, sleep had become a fleeting and fickle Siren who filled his nights with dreams and left him to wake in the still of dawn, exhausted and unrefreshed.<p>

Enos groaned and rolled over under the covers and wished for sleep - for just one blissful night without _seeing_...and _hearing_...and_ feeling._...

There had been times, over the last five months, when he had wondered if he weren't going crazy. It couldn't be normal, could it - for one person to so consume another's thoughts? Every morning the ghost of Daisy's laughter rang in his ears as he lay, tangled in his sheets and feeling only half alive, as though he had lost a part of his very soul.

Enos turned back over and stared up at the ceiling as the light gradually grew stronger, illuminating the water marks and cracks above him. Today was Tuesday and it was the last week of the Spring semester. There were only two more days until finals, but his mind had been less on his grades lately and more the week after, when the dorms would be closed between the Spring and Summer semesters, and he would have to go home to Hazzard.

And thinking of Hazzard inevitably led to thinking of Daisy.

She had been his constant rumination since the previous Christmas, and his initial wallowing in self-pity had eventually transformed into stoic resignation. More than likely she was glad to be _rid_ of him, after all she'd already spent more than enough time in her life pulling him back from whatever dark hole he seemed to be falling into, especially after his father had died. That he had grown so dependent on the brown haired, freckled, slip of a girl had come as somewhat of a shock to him - he had taken for granted that she needed him as much as he needed her.

She had always been the strong one; self-confident and assured, and he had always felt like he could do anything when she was with him.

What had he done for her in return? Instead of being happy that _she_ was happy, he had gotten his feelings hurt and run away. It had been childish and inexcusable. It had been _selfish_.

He dreaded returning to Hazzard - dreaded seeing the damage he had done. Was she angry at him or would she take pity on him and try to act as though nothing had changed between the two of them? He didn't know which would be worse.

The second part of his dilemma was nearly as frustrating as the first. It arrived a week ago Friday in the form of an innocent enough letter from Amy McCullum. There wasn't much to it. It simply read:

_Enos, _  
><em>If you need a ride to the fair, let me know. 555-5908<em>  
><em>Amy<em>

He'd crumpled it up and thrown it away...twice.

* * *

><p>The rain poured unceasing from the sky, from clouds so thick they cast midday into evening, adding to the vast deluge in what normally served as the driveway. It had been a dreary day - the kind that made Daisy wonder at the fact that somewhere above her, the sun was actually shining. She hugged her knees to her chest, shivering against the cool, damp air even through the flannel shirt she was wearing. The water gurgled down the rain pipe beside her while the eaves dripped steadily, falling drop by drop down upon its metal spout, their hollow thumps joining the chorus of the storm.<p>

It was the last Friday in May, and another year of school had ended. She would be a junior come fall...and after that a senior...and after that... Daisy sighed. She couldn't and wouldn't imagine what lay beyond that. Hazzard County didn't send many kids off to the big city, and there had never been a Duke go to college.

Most of the girls in her class would be raising families in five years, and the guys would either be in and out of jail for moon-shining, dead, farming, or gone for parts unknown. She didn't want to settle down with some good-ol' boy who drank himself stupid at the Boar's Nest every evening and then slunk home smelling like a still. She'd had no 'dates' since Christmas, busying herself with school and projects as a cover for her begging off any offers.

Over the spring semester, she had made a concerted effort to widen her pool of friends. She'd joined the cheer-leading squad the previous fall, and people had finally come to know her as something other than "Luke's little cousin" or "the girl who always hung around with that Strate kid".

To Daisy, who had never cared what anyone thought about her and had always been somewhat of a tom-boy, making friends seemed to be more of a game than anything else - a trick of personifying the girl others _wanted_ to see and not necessarily who she really was. Hazzard High cheerleaders did not wander around town in their cousin's ratty hand-me-downs, didn't spend Saturday's fishing in Hazzard Pond, nor did they spend their free time pining over a quirky, almost-orphan, whose biggest claim to fame in high-school was that his pa' had left a spectacular hole in the ground when his still had exploded.

...Well... _Amy_ did, but she could get away with it on account of her looks alone.

So she had relentlessly squelched the part of her conscience that whispered that it was all a sham..worse yet, it was a _betrayal_ - not only to her but to the one person she had always counted on to...well... If Enos had never_ loved_ her, she felt certain that he had at least _cared_ for her unconditionally. Re-inventing Daisy Duke was a risky and unpredictable strategy, but by pretending she was someone she was not and surrounding herself with people she would ordinarily have nothing in common with, she was able to forget him ... most of the time.

But on days like these, alone with nothing but the sound of the rain, her thoughts drifted back to Christmas. Enos running away from things he didn't want to deal with was nothing new...but in all her days, she could never remember a time when it had been _her_ and something _she_ had done to him that had driven him away. They'd had fights and arguments, of course, but not a cross word had come between them this time and it had never been about something so...so _personal_.

He had always been the strong one. He was her anchor, her rock, her confidant, and protector. Somehow, even with him in Atlanta, she had still felt sheltered by him, but she had repaid his constancy by running him off.

What would he say if he knew he was in her thoughts from the moment she woke in the morning until she slept at night? That she felt lost without him beside her? She was dreadfully afraid that it was too late to tell him anything.

Nonetheless, she had to _try._ Tomorrow was the Hazzard County Fair, known more as a social event than for its entertainment value, but everyone would expect Enos to go since he was home and typically you didn't go 'stag'. It would give her a chance to talk to him and to tell him the truth - a last opportunity to set things right...

* * *

><p>It was shortly after noon by the time Enos pulled up in front of the Duke farm. It had rained on him steadily the entire way, the weather echoing the gloominess he felt inside. Ordinarily he would have left Atlanta before breakfast, before first light even, to get here as early as he could...but not today.<p>

He made no move to get out of the car, watching the drops instead as they exploded heavily against the glass of the windshield, disappearing into the current running down off the roof and obscuring his vision now that the wipers were off. He glanced towards the house, but he couldn't see it very well. Had Daisy been watching for him? Probably, he decided - it was a boring, rainy day - nothing better to do than sit and wait for ol' Enos.

_How would it feel to kiss her in the rain?_

Enos shook his head and rubbed at his eyes in a vain effort to scrub the thought from his head. This was not the time nor the place for him to start behaving like a lovesick puppy that had been kicked to the curb. He would just have to try to act as normal as possible, which might be quite a challenge since he wasn't sure what normal _was_ without Daisy.

The windows began to fog, making the car seem eerily entombed. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, wincing as the cold rain pelted his face, and ran up to the porch. A deafening crack of thunder split the air as he ducked under the eaves, making him jump and almost lose his balance. A split second later, he nearly jumped again as Daisy threw her arms around him and hugged him.

"You're late," she griped good-naturedly, her voice muffled against his jacket. "We thought maybe we'd have t' pull you outta a ditch somewhere."

Her embrace was so unexpected that for a moment, he forgot everything that had happened. His arms encircled her automatically, pulling her closer. "Naw, I figured th' backroads'd be flooded so I just took th' highway all th' way up," he answered.

The wind whipped her hair across his face, infusing his senses with the smell of rain mingled with her shampoo, and he was suddenly conscious of how close they were, how he could feel the curves of her body against his own. He had gotten taller and her head rested perfectly against his shoulder...

"_as if she were made for me..._"

The thought came before he could stop it. Quickly he let her go and stepped back, turning to watch the rain before she could see his blush.

"So, how'd school turn out?" he asked, picking at a spot on the porch post next to him where the rotten wood had swelled in the rain.

She stared at him, trying to decipher his emotions, but he was busy fidgeting and not looking at her. "Okay, I guess," she said, noncommittally. "I won't know if I passed history 'till they post grades next week."

"Still history, huh?"

"Hmm. At least _you've_ got somethin' interestin' t' study."

Enos laughed. "Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I miss Hazzard High," he admitted, "'cept for th' math." He flashed her a friendly smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Daisy, y' always do. Better'n me, anyways."

"I heard different," she quipped, "I heard ya' had th' best grades of anyone at th' Academy."

He looked sharply at her, and she instantly regretted bringing it up. She hadn't expected it to be a touchy subject.

"Who told ya' _that_?"

"Uh...well, Amy just mentioned that you'd...," she trailed off. "What does it matter? It ain't nothin' t' be ashamed of."

He shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry, Daisy," he said, looking back out across the yard. "I'm just... I was just...Well, I got somethin' t' tell all a' ya'll at supper."

"That'll be awhile," she reminded him, hoping he'd just tell her now. "What is it?"

His eyes settled on her once again, and she could tell it wasn't the time to push her luck. He looked run down, like he hadn't slept in a couple of days or maybe he was coming down with something.

"I reckon it ain't gonna kill ya' t' wait," he said, flatly. "It ain't nothin' spectacular." For a moment he looked lost and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Listen, Daisy, I'm plum tuckered from school an' drivin'. I'm gonna go lie down. Wake me up for supper, will ya'?"

He disappeared from the porch and into the kitchen without looking back, leaving Daisy alone with the rain.

She stared after him, long after the door had shut and there was nothing left but the vacuum of emptiness between them. He had been fine, at first, and when he'd hugged her back she had even dared to hope that all had been forgiven and forgotten, but then something had changed - like flipping a switch. She didn't know what to make of it...

* * *

><p>Supper was dominated by the news of the day - Luke had wandered across a still while fishing at the Hazzard Dam earlier and speculation over its owner was rife. There was quite a bit of back and forth over whether they should dismantle it themselves to keep the revenuers away and protect whoever was enough of an idiot to put a still there in the first place or whether they should just leave it be.<p>

"I'd bet my right foot that still belongs t' Hard Luck," said Luke, shaking his fork at his uncle. "Ain't nobody but him reckless enough t' set up twenty feet from th' highway. That's why he's always gettin' caught."

Bo, never one to be overshadowed by his older cousin, nodded his head. "Luke's right, Uncle Jesse, I seen him myself, just th' other day, walkin' along th' road down by there when I's on th' bus comin' home."

Uncle Jesse shook his head as he considered the possibilities. "Well...," he said, at last, "there ain't no tellin' if it's his or not. Knowin' Hard Luck, he's apt t' just be wanderin' around drunk and lost." He fixed his sharp, blue eyes on both Luke and Bo. "But you boys listen here - until it's gone, I don't want you anywhere's near there. Th' feds are bound t' find it sooner or later, an' I ain't ready t' start bailin' ya' out for somethin' y' ain't done."

"Yes sir."

"Yes sir, Uncle Jesse."

Enos had been quiet during the entire discussion, concentrating more on shifting his food around than eating. His heart was too full to enjoy it. The Dukes' chatter around the table that would normally have brought him comfort just by way of its familiarity, instead reminded him tonight of his father and how he and Uncle Jesse used to sit at this very table and shoot the breeze. If he could go back five years...everything had been pretty darn close to perfect then. Now he felt like he was on an insane merry-go-round, spinning sickeningly out of control, and the only way off was to jump.

"Say, Enos,I figured you'd be talkin' up a storm since we ain't seen ya' in forever."

He jerked his head up at Luke, embarrassed to realize he had been half asleep already. "I reckon I'm just tired, Luke. "

"Enos said he had somethin' t' tell us at supper."

"Must be somethin' important," noted Uncle Jesse. "Luke's right. You've been awful quiet, son."

Enos' glance shifted towards Daisy, their eyes meeting only a few, brief seconds before he looked away - quickly, but not quickly enough to keep her from seeing the emotions that simmered behind his calm, quiet facade. They reminded her of an animal caught in headlights, paralyzed by fear, and she realized with bewilderment that he was beyond nervous - he was..._unhinged_. And yet, in the time it took for her to come to that conclusion, he had gathered himself again. When he spoke, it was softly, but without even a tinge of what she now thought she must have only imagined seeing.

"I..uh..." He cleared his throat. "Well...ya' know, th' Atlanta Police Department's offerin' jobs to th' top two graduates in my class, so I put my name down for one of 'em. Th' Chief says if I keep my grades like they are now, I'll be a shoe-in."

It was a decision Enos hadn't come to lightly, leaving Hazzard. It would be akin to cutting off his arm, and he had no illusions that the pain of losing such a member would ever fully depart. Over the last several months however, he had come to realize that it was not the county itself that he loved - it was the _people_ who lived here. This was a place steeped in memories of his past, good and bad, but somehow every memory found its way back to the two of them, back to himself and Daisy.

Time would pass, and eventually she would find someone, settle down, and have a family, and though Enos knew eventually he could find it in his heart to accept that - there was no way he was staying in Hazzard to watch it happen. And so he had added his name to the Atlanta PD's list for consideration, knowing his marks it would land him smack dab at the top.

It took a moment for his words to sink in with everyone.

"Well, I'll be," marveled Luke, "Enos Strate on a big-time police force. Congratulations, buddy!"

Enos grinned shyly. "Thank ya', Luke, but I ain't got it just yet. I got another year 'fore I graduate."

"You will though," said Uncle Jesse, encouragingly. "You just keep on doin' what you're doin'. An' don't you let 'em give you any crap about bein' from th' Hills. Prob'ly ain't a one of them who couldn't shake a moonshiner or two outta their family tree if'n they climbed high enough."

His laugh was genuine. "Thanks, Uncle Jesse. I won't."

This was what it felt like, thought Daisy, to feel the world spin away from you while you watched helplessly. Left behind. Forgotten. _Atlanta!_ ...but...but... _HE WAS COMING HOME_, _wasn't_ _he_? She considered the consequences of his words, and found nothing but her own inarticulate disbelief. Enos couldn't stay in Atlanta. It was crazy... a sick joke.

Minutes passed before she heard Luke calling her name and looked up to see everyone's attention focused on her. "I'm sorry...what did you say, Luke?"

"Dang, Daisy, didn't ya' hear anything Enos said?" asked Bo. "He's gonna work for th' Atlanta Police Department."

She pasted a smile on her face, feeling wretched inside, and said the only thing she knew to say, "I'm really happy for ya', Enos."


	12. Through a Glass, Darkly, Part 2

_"Meet me after dark again and I'll hold you._  
><em>I want nothing more than to see you there.<em>  
><em>And maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away -<em>  
><em>we'll be lost before the dawn..."<em>  
><em>-Evanescence<em>

* * *

><p>As night fell, the thin clouds slipped quickly across the sky, drifting southeasterly from the Appalachians and out towards the Atlantic Ocean, alternately shrouding and revealing the half moon which had risen not long before. At the moment, they had dispersed, and a faint, silvery light spilled across farm, broken only by the shadow of an owl gliding silently down to catch his prey - until the window of the spare bedroom slid open. The owl, thwarted in his goal, changed direction and flew away as Enos slipped quietly through the window and down into the yard.<p>

The moon was high and lit the path that he knew by heart, well enough that he could have - and had before- followed it devoid of any light at all. The field was already waist high with the summer grasses, their bushy ends tugging gently at his sweatpants and t-shirt as he walked slowly down the path that led towards the woods beyond. It snaked through the grass, a ribbon of packed earth stretching through the expanse, and if Enos had not known better, he would have sworn it went on and on, across the hill beyond him and ahead until it reached that elusive point where Heaven and Earth merged. As it were, the path led only to Hazzard Pond. That wasn't his destination tonight, though, and a quarter mile further he stopped on a small rise at the far edge of the Duke property and sat down, leaning his back against the fence post behind him.

In the valley below him, the house lay dark and silent and sleeping, no more than a shadow in the weak moonlight. His eyes sought the edge of the building and traveled to the right some twenty feet before they stopped on a spot no more and no less defined than any other part - and yet it was there, behind that wall of impenetrable darkness, that his heart lay prisoner. He had given it away unknowingly, so very long ago, and yet the thought of calling it back seemed worse than being without it.

* * *

><p>Daisy had sat in her dark room by the open window until the sun sank behind the horizon and the moon had risen on its slow and methodical journey through the starry sky. The night was teeming with life, from the mosquitoes that found her exposed arms resting folded on the sill and the mind-numbing drone of the katydids to the calls of the coyotes, echoing through the woods across the fields.<p>

Once she heard a larger animal, around the corner of the house near her, too large to be a raccoon she reckoned - a deer perhaps. It moved slowly and stealthily from the yard and out into the field. The trail to the woods crossed by her window, but as the unseen creature moved further along the path, the clouds passed over the moon again, enclosing the night in total darkness. By the time they passed, whatever it was had gone.

* * *

><p>Enos leaned his head back against the post, gazing at the stars for a moment before closing his eyes. He let his thoughts drift, buoyed into the darkness on the sounds of night, the low, vibrating burble of bullfrogs and screeches of crickets. It called to mind another night at this very farm, sitting around a fire, swapping ghost stories and burning marshmallows. It had to have been eight or nine years ago because it was before Aunt Lavinia had passed, but it felt as though it could have been yesterday. A memory without the boundaries of time. He remembered clearly, laying in the cool, damp grass, staring up at the stars while the logs in the fire popped and crackled, sending sparks high up into the air. And beside him, of course, had been Daisy, picking out constellations she'd made up from the sea of stars above them. He opened his eyes to the night.<p>

_"I love her."_

It was no more than a whisper, and yet the words seemed to ring out in his own ears, to linger like smoke rising from that unseen fire. It was the first time he had given voice to the longing inside him, and now that he had spoken it, it seemed more real - a tangible thing that he might reach out and grasp and examine.

"I _love_ her_._"

He spoke it louder this time. It was the truth, after all, no matter if his were the only ears that would ever hear it.

* * *

><p>It could have been an hour, or possibly two or three. Time had little impression upon Daisy's thoughts, and in any case her clock was turned away from her, facing towards the bed which by all rights she should be sleeping in at that very moment. In truth, she was afraid - not a childish fear of the darkness, nor of any creature which stirred therein. Neither did she fear a nightmare...in fact, she mused, waking up to heart-pounding horror might be merciful for once, better than the empty ache of realizing that the boy...<p>

_Gagh!_ He was eighteen, he couldn't properly be called a _"boy"_ any longer. Might as well call him a man than that, though thinking of Enos as such left her feeling more like a child herself for she couldn't as yet properly imagine herself a woman. Maybe if she was older, she would have more of a right to go to him and tell him what was in her heart, but she was convinced that he saw her as nothing more than a kid from back home - from a life and place he obviously couldn't wait to get away from.

The tears, which had stained her cheeks at intervals through her long vigil, began fresh at the thought of him leaving. For a moment she entertained a fancy of kidnapping him and locking him away in her closet, but the ensuing laugh was half-hearted and caught in her chest.

Enos leaving forever (for Atlanta might as well be at the far end of all things for all she cared) meant that she had to move on. It meant that she had to pull herself together and forget..._him_. Forget the smile she swore he saved just for her when they shared a memory known only to the two of them, the depths of his eyes when they caught her own, the innocently oblivious way he had always flirted with her, forget...

_Forget how much she loved him._

* * *

><p>Both Enos and Daisy sat in silence through the night, until the dawn stretched forth its wispy fingers in streaks of pink and purple across the ashen sky, each unknowingly watching the other and giving voice alone to the words they could not find to share between them.<p>

* * *

><p>Luke eyed Enos skeptically as the latter shuffled into the kitchen shortly after 8:00 the next morning.<p>

"You look like ya' got run over by a truck, Enos."

Enos, whose mind was not yet turning quickly enough for conversation, grunted indifferently as he fumbled in the cabinet for a coffee cup. Pulling one out, his hand brushed another which in turn fell from the shelf, hit the counter-top, and careened to the floor where it broke into an astonishing number of pieces.

Enos groaned and stared at it in disbelief for a moment before setting his own cup down and moving to get the broom that rested between the refrigerator and the wall. He swept up the pieces and deposited them in the trash, then poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove and took a seat at the table.

"You goin' to th' fair today?" asked Luke. It was just polite talk, he didn't care that much, besides Enos and Daisy went together every year so it wasn't as if it was anything special.

"I reckon I am. I-"

Any further comment was cut short by Daisy entering the kitchen. She, like Enos, headed towards the coffee as well, and if he had been in any state of mind to pay more attention he might have thought it odd since he knew she found the stuff noxious. He also might have noticed, had he been looking at her, the tale-tell circles under her eyes from her own lack of sleep.

"Mornin' fellas," she exclaimed, gaily enough. Her attention centered on Enos and she strode over towards him, gathering her courage. "Say Enos... I'm goin' to th' fair this mornin'. You comin'?"

He looked up at her, rather surprised by the request and wondering if she genuinely wanted him to come with her or if she was merely being polite. In any case, it didn't much matter, he'd already made plans.

"I'm much obliged, Daisy," he said, "but I told Amy I'd pick her up around eleven."

Daisy, who hadn't figured on having competition, could only stare at him. Luke, upon hearing another girl's name, perked up, suddenly finding Enos' day to be the most interesting bit of gossip he'd heard all week.

"_Amy_?" he asked, incredulous. "As in Amy _McCullum_?" Amy was the...well one of the best looking girls at school. Unfortunately her long-standing crush on Enos had dashed any hopes a play-boy like Luke might have had with her. In fact, he thought it probable Enos was the only guy who _hadn't_ asked her out - everyone else he knew (himself included) had been turned down at least once already. It was a shame really.

"That'd be her."

Luke slapped Enos on the shoulder. "You're one lucky SOB, ya' know that? Say, you need any pointers for roundin' second base, you can ask me."

Daisy missed Enos' deep, crimson flush while she was busy choking on her coffee.

"I gotta go," she heard Enos say, as his chair scraped against the floor. "See ya' later, Daisy."

He was already out the door and down the steps before she could catch her breath. A moment later his engine started and he tore down the drive, churning up a cloud of dust behind him.

Daisy turned angrily to her cousin. "Why'd ya' go an' do that for?"

"Do what?" he asked, confused. "'bout time Enos stopped livin' in a dang hole. What's _your_ problem?"

"You just...ya' shouldn't've embarrassed him like that. He ain't gonna come back now 'till after dark."

Luke narrowed his eyes at her, a curious expression on his face. "Say, Daisy... you ain't jealous of Amy are ya'?"

Daisy felt her cheeks beginning to burn. If she didn't get out of this with Luke, it would be all over, and he'd never let her live it down. That and Enos would never have anything else to do with her for sure if Luke started teasing her in front of him.

"I ain't jealous!" she argued. "Good grief, Luke, I can get any guy I want t' go out with me. What in th' heck would I want t' date _Enos_ for?"

She could almost taste the lie as it came out of her mouth. And nothing had ever tasted more bitter.


	13. Through a Glass, Darkly, Part 3

It was far too early to pick up Amy, not even 10:00 am yet, so instead of heading straight to her house, Enos found himself driving aimlessly though the hills of Northern Hazzard. He rested his elbow on the frame of the open window, feeling the wind rush against his face. It would have been pleasant if his thoughts weren't in such turmoil, but such as it was, he barely registered the cooler breeze, refreshing in the depths of summer. It would be a scorcher later, the sky already a dirty white - not of clouds, but of the thick, humid, clinging haze that seemed to drench every summer day in the deep South. It made him long for fall, for a sky that was proper blue, when everything was it's own vivid color and not merely different shades of dust.

The overhanging branches across the seldom used back-roads made the heat somewhat better. Here the sun had not baked everything to a crisp yet, and though the temperature was only marginally different, the shade at least cooled his temper. He'd gone a good ten miles into the depths of the middle of nowhere before he really paid attention to where he was. It took him only a moment to find his bearings - a crooked branch here, a rock by the road there - though truthfully he couldn't have explained how he always seemed to know where he was. Other people could play the guitar, sing, do math without counting on their fingers...Enos had been born with an internal compass.

It was the fact that he _knew_ where he was that made him stand on the brakes, leaving a skid mark on the sparsely graveled road. He sat, debating his direction in the middle of the deserted road for some five minutes before sighing and continuing on, though at a considerably slower pace than before. The road was too narrow to turn around anyway, so he'd have to follow it to it's logical destination. Half a mile further, he turned off down another short lane even less worn than the one he'd come from, and parked the car beside the entrance to the old Pine Ridge Cemetery.

It had been at least two years since he'd been here, and truthfully he didn't remember much about the last time. They'd come to put flags on the veterans' graves, and on the graves of Lavinia Duke and his own aunt, Mary Tribble, but he'd stayed away from the crumbling monument with his surname on it in the midst of his ancestors' final resting places. He couldn't remember if he'd even _looked_ at his father's stone.

_"Three years ago," _he thought,_ "three years ago, everything was normal."_

He wondered if he would ever stop counting, ever stop playing that endless game with himself. He supposed if he lived long enough, there would come a day where his life without his father would number more days than the life he'd lived with him. _ Thirty- one_. He would be thirty-one when that happened. It seemed an impossibly long way off to the eighteen year old.

He remembered coming here when he was little, when some moonshiner or obscure, distant relation had passed away. He'd scared her to death - Daisy that was- with tales of people falling into the old, unmarked graves. It was a rumor with the power of half-truth behind it. The old wooden coffins over time would rot and break down, and there were several graves that had sunken eerily by several feet. He, Daisy, and Luke would chase each other around the headstones until either Uncle Jesse or his father yelled at them to stop it and be respectful.

Most of the stones were old or broken, and many looked older than they were. Marble was the poor man's rock of choice for markers, but time and elements were harsh and unkind to the soft stone. Names that only fifty years ago had been carved into the brilliant, white slabs were now unreadable, the stones worn past the point of recognition and covered with lichen and moss - the memory of that person lost forever in the sea of time. The thought made him shiver.

He walked past several rows to the spot reserved for the Duke family and knelt down at the base of Aunt Lavinia's, clearing away the leaves from its base. It had been seven years ago that she'd died, leaving behind three Duke children and one Strate who had adopted her as a substitute for his own mother. It seemed both like an eternity, and as though it was only yesterday. He had been eleven, old enough to remember before she'd gotten sick that last winter. The house had never really been the same. She seemed to always be cooking or canning in the kitchen, and though Daisy had taken over those jobs at a fairly early age, she lacked the enthusiasm for them that Lavinia had had. Her presence had filled the kitchen with life, and without her, it had become just another room. Daisy had been eight, old enough to remember her as well, but it struck him for the first time that he had never heard her talk about her death.

He guessed he and Daisy were still very much alike.

His eyes drifted towards the rear of the cemetery, lighting on a newer, whiter stone among the many. He turned around and went back to his car.

* * *

><p>Amy saw him - almost sensed him as he pulled into the driveway, and though she knew he was only going to the fair with her because he had no other options, her heart raced nervously nonetheless. If Daisy didn't want him, <em>she'd<em> take him. _Another woman's trash is another's treasure_, she thought, before discarding the idea. In her eyes, the only trash was the girl who had kicked Enos to the curb.

"You're libel to scare him away if ya' don't stop your blushin', Amy Lynn." Her softly spoken words echoed in the small bedroom. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and left the room.

Instead of rushing straight to the door, she forced herself to wait until he knocked. The minutes dragged by like hours until at last she heard his footsteps on the porch and his knuckles rapped against the wood. Still she forced herself to wait, but she only made it to ten in her counting before she couldn't stand it anymore and opened the door.

Her eyes picked out the differences in him immediately. He hadn't cut his hair, presumably since the previous summer when he'd decided to crop it really short. The haircut had made him look older, but almost too old, and she'd hated it - far too clean cut for a moonshiner's kid. Now it had grown back to it's normal length - just shy of falling in his eyes. He'd been working out more, too. He was more muscle than scrawniness now.

"Hey, Enos!" she said, smiling. "You're early."

He ran his hand nervously through his hair, raking it back from his forehead, and she turned around before he caught her staring at him.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, following her inside. "Didn't realize what time it was when I left out this mornin'."

She closed the door and turned back to him, understanding in her eyes. "You ain't gotta make excuses," she said. "An' you're welcome here anytime. My pa' was as close t' yours as Jesse Duke was, ya' know." He grunted some sort of non-committal reply which she ignored. "Didja eat breakfast? You look like you ain't seen sleep in about three days."

"Thanks for noticin' I look like crap, Amy. I'm much obliged." He winced and shook his head. "Gosh...I'm sorry. I don't mean t' ruin _your_ day, too. Just ignore whatever th' heck I say."

Instead of the anger he'd expected, she laughed light-heartedly. "Don't worry, Enos," she said, "I've got thicker skin than I look like." She put her hand lightly on his shoulder and propelled him gently towards the small dining room. "Sit down, ya' need somethin' t' eat."

He obeyed her with a sigh, pulling out a wooden seat and plopping down at the table. "Yeah, alright," he told her, but she had already disappeared into the kitchen.

She returned moments later with four slices of freshly baked bread and a jar of mulberry preserves which she sat down in front of him.

"How come you always seem t' be feedin' me?" he smirked, not unkindly at her, remembering other days around this table when he was a kid - times when his pa' was visiting and Amy would chase him down and feed him snacks, much to his chagrin.

"Oh, I don't know. I just like t' watch people enjoy things I make, I s'pose," she said with a shrug. "Th' boys used t' scarf th' bread down nearly before it came out of th' oven. It's kinda quiet around here, now, though."

He smeared some jam on the bread and took a bite, admitting that if nothing else, the girl was a dang good cook. "You should teach D-... You should teach other people t' bake bread, it's really good."

"Thanks, Enos," Amy replied, letting the slip go. Even now, she knew Daisy was always at the forefront of his mind. It was expected. "Maybe some day I'll do somethin' besides moon-shinin'."

They smiled sadly at each other, both knowing she would probably never leave these hills. That was just how it was. Enos was the exception to the rule.

"Well," she said, getting up with a sigh, "I've got some dishes t' finish up before we go, so I'll let you eat."

She left the dining room, condemning him to the silence of his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Amy had suggested they stay around her house until after lunch so they wouldn't have to spend money on the food vendors at the fair. Enos, who never had more than two dimes together at one time, had agreed, and now as he droved them back into Hazzard, it was nearly 2:00.<p>

Ever since Mr. Hogg had bought the fair grounds, he'd started charging $3 for parking. Looking around him, Enos reckoned he wasn't getting many takers. Most people were parking on the back-roads like himself.

The grounds were fairly crowed for this early, many people having come early to grab lunch. He and Amy bypassed the carny games and made their way to the 4-H barn where Amy's mom had a booth set up. As they approached, Mrs. McCullum waved and stood up, walking around to the front of the table.

"Enos! It's so good t' see you again," she said, giving him a hug which he politely returned. Instead of letting him go, she backed up, holding him at arm's length. Enos blushed self-consciously as she examined him with a mother's eye. "You look better than ya' did at Christmas. You've been workin' out."

"Yes ma'am," he said, embarrassed, "there ain't much else t' do there."

She flashed him a kind smile. "Well, ya' look real good. How's your mom?"

He shrugged. "She's doin' fine." Truthfully, he hadn't been home in months. He figured if his presence bent her out of shape so much, he'd just stay away.

Amy picked up one of several dozen jelly jars arranged neatly on the table next to them, holding it up to the light to examine its color. "How's business goin', mom?"

"Oh! I'm doin' just fine," she answered, "Just a while ago, someone from th' orphanage came by an' bought a dozen pints! At this rate, I'll be out by t'morrow." She looked from her daughter to Enos. "Did you two eat somethin'?"

"Yeah, we ate some sandwiches at home before we headed out," said Amy, setting the jelly jar back down.

Mrs. McCullum pulled a five dollar bill out of her pocket. "Well, here's some spendin' money, just in case ya' need it later," she said, handing it to her daughter as a couple strolled over to the table to check out the McCullum's jams.

Amy pocketed the money and grinned back at her. "Thanks, mom. We'd better get outta here before we cost you sales."

She gave her mom a quick hug and turned back to Enos. "I guess we might as well walk around an' see what else there is t' do."

He shrugged. "Alright. Bye, Mrs. McCullum."

There wasn't much to do at all. After they'd exhausted all the entertainment the 4-H barn had to offer and had walked through the livery stables, they found themselves back at the food tent. Most of the tables were filled with teens, gushing over the latest dramas infecting Hazzard High, and Enos' eyes automatically picked Daisy out of the group, sitting with a group of girls he didn't know. Her back was turned to him, and she hadn't seen him yet. He wondered if he could escape without her notice. First things first, though.

"Hey Amy, I'll be right back," he said, gesturing to the brick building with restrooms next to the food area.

"Oh, sure, no problem, I'm gonna wait in th' shade, though, I'm gonna fry if I don't get outta th' sun."

There was already a line inside the men's, so Enos unhappily took a spot along the inside wall by the sinks, waiting for his turn.

Several minutes later, he was washing his hands when a girl's voice drifted in over the noise of the crowd. He couldn't tell what she was saying from inside the building, but whatever it was, she didn't sound happy. Wondering what was going on, he hurried out.

At first he didn't see Amy, but then he heard the voice again and realized it was hers, coming from around the far corner of the brick building. He walked around the side - and stopped short, fury building inside him. What th' _heck?.! _

"Get away from me, you freak!" she screamed, trying her best to kick the guy who held her pinned against the brick wall. "_Leave me alone_!"

Not waiting to find out who the guy was, or what exactly he was trying to pull with Amy, Enos crossed the distance between himself and her assailant. He grabbed the guy and pulled him off of her, throwing him roughly to the ground. It was only then that he realized it was Darcy.

"What th' heck's wrong with you?" Enos yelled down at him. "She said t' leave her alone!"

Darcy clambered up from the ground, ignoring Enos. "You came with_ this_ guy?" he asked Amy, incredulous. "Honey, I can show you a much better time than he can." He turned back to Enos. "How's it goin', maggot?"

Enos gritted his teeth. "Ain't there some hole you need t' crawl back into?"

Darcy laughed him off and leaned closer to him, "Say, you can have Daisy back now if ya' want," he whispered, "...I'm all done with her."

Whether Darcy saw Enos' punch coming was debatable as blood sprayed from his nose, splattering over the wall beside him in large red droplets. He staggered a moment before sitting down hard on the ground, his bewildered expression changing quickly to rage.

"You're gonna pay for that, Strate!" he shouted, pointing at Enos while the blood flowed freely from his nose and split lip. "I was just kiddin', you idiot!"

Enos rolled his eyes and turned back to Amy. "Hey, you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Enos."

"You hear me?" Darcy screamed again. "I swear, you're gonna get yours someday!"

For Darcy's sake, Enos draped his arm protectively around Amy's shoulders. "You outta get cleaned up 'fore ya' draw flies," he told him, with a smirk, before he steered Amy away. He didn't let her go until they had turned the next corner, away from the crowd at the food tent.

"Hey, I'm sorry about Darcy," he said. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Amy waived off his concern. "Oh, I'm fine, Enos. Darcy just doesn't know what t' say when a girl tells him 'no'. An' by th' way," she added, "I know you were just showin' off for Darcy, so don't think I read nothin' into you puttin' your arm around me. You should've see th' look on his face when ya' did, though."

Enos laughed, relieved that she'd known the truth.

"Maybe he'll finally leave me alone at school now."

* * *

><p>Daisy turned back to the group of girls sitting at the table with her. She had no way of knowing what had transpired between Darcy, Enos, and Amy. All she had seen was Enos and Amy, walking past the food tent, his arm around her shoulders. If anyone would have told her, she would never have believed them. She'd thought for certain he'd come here with Amy just to...well, just to make her mad, not because he actually felt something for Amy after all these years.<p>

_"That used to be me,"_ thought Daisy, sadly. _"That's where I belong, not her." _She wasn't paying attention to the other girls until one of them shook her shoulder.

"Hey, Daisy, you comin' with us?"

She looked at the expectant faces around her. They weren't normally kids she hung out with, only knowing their names from school, but she hadn't been choosy when she'd sat down. "Where're ya' goin'?" she asked them.

"Oh, there's a party out at Crater Lake," the girl said, "Come on, it'll be fun!"

Daisy sighed. She expected anything would be more fun than sitting here by herself. Maybe it would take her mind of of Enos for a while. "Yeah, I guess so," she said, with a shrug.

"Great, come on!"

With a last look back at where Enos and Amy had disappeared to, she followed the others away from the food tent.


	14. Hero of the Day  Part 1

_A/N: i1976, Enos'sGal, and JadedPhoenixBurning: Thanks for all your support! Everyone, come check out the "Enos Strate Appreciation Foundation" forum. Even if you're not into Daisy/Enos, we've had some great discussions on general writing tips and or if you're just looking for a friendly place to hang out, check it out! We're up to over 200 posts - wow!  
><em>

_We're skipping ahead here a little with this next chapter. Sorry! I really want to get this story finished before my new story "Halls of Stone and Iron" comes out.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>"Somewhere after midnight<br>in my wildest fantasies -  
>somewhere just beyond my reach,<br>there's someone reaching back for me..."  
><em>_-Bonnie Tyler  
><em>

* * *

><p>Another year passed by quickly, as the time of youth tends to do, and the following fall and winter slipped away without much notice. Enos had come home briefly for Christmas, but everything seemed 'off' and so he'd found himself the next day outside Amy's door, and had been shuffled in with the rest of their family as though he belonged there all along.<p>

It wasn't horrible, he conceded, spending time with Amy. She was unassuming when it came to their relationship - more so that Enos would have ever given her credit for, and he found himself nearly as comfortable around her as he had once been with Daisy. She had a way of making him talk about things he needed to talk about, and it was her that in the Spring of 1971 had walked with him to that quiet, desolate corner of the Pine Ridge Cemetery.

She'd not said a word, nor had she touched him, as he'd shed the first tears for his father in four years, but her presence had helped to keep the worst of the long-ignored demons at bay, and for that, he was thankful. She was a good friend, as good a friend as she possibly could have been to him - and yet, it wasn't Amy he wanted. The depths of his soul still longed for the girl who had once known him far better than he'd ever known himself.

It had been a violent year with some of the worst storms Georgia had ever seen. Tornadoes ripped through the state in three times in the month of April, and the Academy had called for volunteers to spend the summer break helping the residents of the hardest hit areas clean up . Enos had, of course, jumped at the chance, and so one school year had stretched into the next without a visit from him to Hazzard.

It was in the winter of 1971, as the gray clouds stole lustily across the frigid Georgian sky, that he got the call...

* * *

><p>Enos sat on the edge of his bed, staring at nothing, trying to think of something to do. It was Friday, the 17th of December, and technically there was no reason for him to even be here at all. He'd had his last final on Wednesday- the last final he'd ever have to study for, he hoped. He didn't know whether to be happy or scared to death that his time at the Atlanta Police Academy had finally come to an end.<p>

There were only a few students left in the dorms now, most third year students having gone home already for a long Christmas vacation since Graduation wasn't until January 8th. He reckoned it was expected by now that he wouldn't show up until Christmas Eve. Of course, there had been better times - times when he'd _longed_ to be back in Hazzard. He stopped and shook his head. It didn't warrant to beg for misery.

Instead, he picked up the letter he'd received in the mail earlier that week from where it lay face down on his desk. Idly, he drew it out of the envelope and unfolded it, reading it once again:

_Dear Mr. Strate:_  
><em>With reference to your interview with us last week, it is our pleasure to offer you a position with the City of Atlanta Police Department, as per the terms and conditions we discussed with you. If you agree to these terms, please report to the Human Resources Department at 227 Peachtree Street, Southwest, at 7:00am, Monday, January 10th, for orientation.<em>  
><em>Please bring with you this letter and a notarized copy of your Academy transcripts. <em>  
><em>We look forward to your joining our organization, <em>  
><em>Best Regards,<em>  
><em>(signature)<em>  
><em>Chief of Police<em>  
><em>City of Atlanta<em>

He put the letter back into its envelope, tossed it onto the desk, and fell back onto his bed. Footsteps sounded in the hall outside his open door. He listened as they came closer and then waited for them to pass and fade away. Instead they stopped and he frowned as someone knocked on his door. A guy poked his head around the corner of his wall.

"Hey, Strate," he said, "you've gotta phone call."

For a moment he just stared blankly back at him. "Oh...okay."

He dragged himself off the bed and walked towards the far end of the dorm where the phone was, his palms began to sweat and his heart beat harder in his chest. It took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was wrong. For someone to call him here, it would have to be an _emergency._ He thought first of Uncle Jesse. He'd already lost his own father...if something had happened...

He raced through the remainder of the hallway to the phone which sat at the front desk, and snatched up the receiver laying beside it.

"Hello?" he asked, breathless.

There was a pause and then a girl's voice, quiet and shy, "Enos? Is that you?"

His brain rifled through people until he identified the voice. "_Amy?"_

"Yeah. Hey, I'm...I'm really sorry t' bother you."

"That's alright. I wasn't doin' nothin'," he replied, honestly. There was something in her tone, something that didn't set well with him. "What's wrong?"

She paused again and he heard her sigh deeply with worry. "Enos, you need t' come home."

His thoughts raced once more to Uncle Jesse, but then why would it be Amy calling and not Luke or Daisy? "Is Uncle Jesse alright?"

"Oh, yeah...yeah, he's fine," she assured him, quickly. "No...it's...it's Daisy. Enos, you need t' talk to her."

He laughed nervously. "Right. Amy, whatever Daisy's problem is, she ain't lookin' for advice from _me_."

"Enos...you know I ain't one t' tell tales, and I don't know her too -"

"What's she done?" he interrupted her by saying. He didn't have the foggiest idea why Amy of all people would be telling him anything about Daisy. Although not unfriendly to each other, they weren't more than casual acquaintances.

"It ain't what she's done so much as what she's _doin_' an' who she's doin' it _with_."

He blushed deeply, hoping her words were meant in a different context than what they sounded like. "Uh... I don't think that's my...business," he stammered, embarrassed, but Amy seemed not to have heard him.

"She's been goin' up t' th' state line with some other kids on Friday nights," she continued, "an' if she ain't careful, she's gonna get herself in big trouble. Remember that girl they found in that reservoir up in North Carolina? Up by Moccasin Creek?

"Yeah, I head about it." Moccasin Creek ran through the middle of the Chattahoochee National Forest just across the border of North Carolina, less than 40 miles straight north from Hazzard County. They'd actually dissected the facts in his Investigations class earlier that fall. Rumors had it that the girl's blood alcohol level had killed her long before she'd ever reached the water and that she'd been tossed in by her panicked fellow party-goers that frequented the abandoned shacks that permeated the region.

"Enos, that's where she's been goin'."

The bloated, disfigured corpse from the crime scene photos flashed through his mind, bringing with it a wave of nausea, and he leaned against the desk to steady himself. Whatever problem Daisy might have with him personally, whatever this "thing" was that he couldn't seem to make heads or tails of between them – no amount of pride was worth losing her like that.

"Thanks for callin' me, Amy," he said, quietly. "I'll talk to her." Slowly, he dropped the receiver back in it's cradle without waiting for her to say good-bye.

There was a new-moon tonight, and with Christmas coming up, Uncle Jesse was likely to have a long run later. Enos' watch read 3:45 pm., and if he hurried, he might be able to catch Daisy alone without everyone else around. Of course, he could always tell Uncle Jesse what Amy had told him, and if it came down to saving Daisy's life - he would. For now though, he'd rather not burn any bridges he didn't have to.

He realized with a start that he hadn't even begun to pack, yet. He'd been putting it off, expecting to have at least another five or six days before he headed out. Time now at the forefront of his mind, he raced back to his room, pulled his over-sized duffel bag out from underneath his bed and began shoving his clothes and few possessions into it. He stripped his blanket and sheets from off his bed, rolling them messily together as best he could, and looked around to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything.

_The letter. _

He stuffed it into the side pocket of his bag, threw his coat on, loaded his arms down with his duffle and his bedclothes and without a look back, left the little room that had been his home for the the last three years.

His entire packing session had taken the better part of twenty minutes, and he shook his head as he tossed everything into the trunk of his car and slammed the lid. _Too long._ He had to get out of here. The back-roads would be quickest, and he knew the location of every speed trap.

* * *

><p>Daisy drummed her fingers impatiently on the table and her eyes flicked again to the clock which read four minutes later than the last time she'd looked at it: 6:15 pm. Supper had wound down early with no one particularly excited about beans and cornbread, but pickings were lean with extra money being squirreled away for Christmas dinner. It had been a bad year for the corn with too much rain in the wrong times and not enough in the right times, and consequently whiskey production was nearly half what it was in a good year.<p>

"What'dya got a big date t'night or somethin'?"

Daisy looked the across the table at Luke. "What?'

"Well, you're about as antsy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs," he said, gesturing at her hands, which immediately stilled. "I thought you was goin' over t' Nancy's place t'night."

"Oh. Yeah, I am," she claimed. "I'm just thinkin' about what _not _t' get you for Christmas."

"You didn't get my name. I know for a fact Uncle Jesse drew it, 'cause I seen th' slip of paper on his night stand."

Uncle Jesse looked sharply over at Luke. "Just what were you doin' messin' in my night stand?"

"I didn't say in _it_, Uncle Jesse, I said _on_ it...and Daisy asked me t' put some clothes away in there th' other day."

Nancy Wheeler had been Daisy's cover story for the last five months. She was one of the only girls Daisy had been able to think of whose parents Uncle Jesse didn't know, and consequently wasn't libel to check up on her. Besides that, she was careful to maintain her trustworthiness in all other areas of her life. If her uncle knew she'd been going across the border into North Carolina where the legal drinking age was only 18 – getting picked up by a group of kids from Atlanta every Friday night for the last three months whose _first_ names even were sometimes a bit hazy, there would be hell to pay and then some.

But Uncle Jesse _didn't_ know, and he wouldn't. Friday nights were busy nights for Ridge-runners and, with times hard that year, Uncle Jesse and the boys had other things to worry about than if she was actually where she said she was. Besides, she was 18 now, she could do what she pleased. They never even witnessed her Saturday morning hangovers since they slept late after the long Friday night runs.

The sound of a car pulling up in front of the house silenced the conversation as Uncle Jesse got up from the table and peered out the kitchen window.

"Huh!" he said, surprised. "I didn't reckon t' see Enos 'till next week."

Hastily, Daisy got up, gathered up her dishes, and dumped them in the sink. "I've gotta go get ready." She made it to her room and shut the door just in time to hear Enos enter the kitchen and sat down on her bed to listen.

"Hey there, Enos," she heard Uncle Jesse saying, "didn't figure we'd see ya' this early."

"Hi Uncle Jesse, Luke, Bo," he greeted in return. "Sorry I didn't call ya', it was getting' pretty lonely around th' Academy so I figured I'd head out early."

"Well, we're glad t' see ya'. Pull up a chair, if you're hungry."

Luke laughed. "Yeah, eat th' rest of th' beans 'fore we see 'em again for lunch t'morrow."

It had been a long time since Enos had shown up earlier than Christmas Eve at the farm, and the last two he'd run off to Amy's before anyone could get more than a couple words out of him. Not that she blamed him. Amy was...well...Amy was a _good_ girl. Daisy stripped off the sweater she had been wearing and pulled on a tight, black tank top instead.

"Well, boys, we'd better get a move on," Uncle Jesse said, "It's libel t' rain later." Daisy heard the sound of chairs scooting back from the table and the tinkling of glasses and plates as they were set in the sink.

There was a knock on her door. "Daisy," her uncle called, "we're headin' out. You okay in there?"

"Yep, sure am," she answered. "Be careful, Uncle Jesse. Nancy's gonna pick me up here in about half an hour."

"Well...alright. Have fun now."

"I will."

Ten minutes later the kitchen door shut behind her uncle and cousins and shortly thereafter she heard the exhaust from Black Tillie as the Chrysler rolled out of the barn and down the drive towards Mill Road on it's long run up to Knoxville.

Ordinarily, this was the moment that she breathed easier, when her anticipation for the coming night of fun made her giddy...but not tonight. She didn't know how the simple fact of Enos sitting out there in her kitchen changed things, but it did. For some reason, his mere presence made her feel guilty. She decided she'd just stay in her room until her ride showed up, but that decision was cut short by the unexpected knock at her bedroom door.

"Daisy," Enos said, quietly. "Daisy, I need t' talk to ya'."

Talk? He hadn't strung together more than a dozen words to her in the last two years, and now he wanted to _talk_? She felt her anger rising. It was a little late to say anything _now._ Yesterday was gone and dead.

"What about?"

She heard him sigh. "Daisy, would ya' please just come out? I know what's goin' on."

He jumped back from her as she threw open the door and stared him down, fire shining in her eyes. "Oh really?" she rounded on him. "You don't show up for nearly a year an' you think you know what's goin' on? I doubt it. Why don'tcha just go on over t' Amy's. I'm sure _she's_ missin' ya' more than_ I_ am."

She listened to herself, in detached shock, as words she absolutely didn't mean flew from her lips. She pushed past him in an effort to leave her doorway, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.

"What th' heck is _wrong_ with you?" he asked, baffled. "I'm just...I don't want t' see ya' get hurt. Where're you goin' tonight?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Uncle Jesse said you were goin' out. Where're you goin'?"

"Why? Are ya' gonna check up on me? Make sure I'm bein' a good girl?"

He shook his head, disgusted, but a thought occurred to him. "I'm comin' with you," he said, suddenly.

His words made her stop. _Enos_? _Come with her?_ _Sweet, gentle, perfect Enos?_ No. It was one thing for her to be doing what she knew good and well wasn't smart, but to drag him into it with her? She thought perhaps God might just have done with her and strike her dead if she was the cause of him getting hurt.

"No. It's a girl thing."

"Right." Clearly he believed nothing of the sort.

A car skidded into the drive and honked its horn. Without hesitation, Daisy grabbed her coat from the couch and ran through the kitchen.

"_Daisy!"_

She stopped, knowing she shouldn't, but powerless not to turn around. Her eyes met his, the worry she saw there nearly bringing tears to hers, and for a moment she _wanted_ to stay. Just wanted to curl up on the couch with Enos and forget about everthing.

"Daisy," he pleaded, softly, "please don't go."

"Why, Enos? So I can stay here an' play checkers with you?"

"Just...just talk t' me. We haven't just sat down an' talked in a long time."

"Aren't you movin' to Atlanta next month?" she reminded him. "I don't think we have much to talk about, city boy. Look, I'm gonna go have some fun. Don't wait up."

* * *

><p>Enos watched her go, whispering a prayer that God would watch over her, and knowing he wouldn't sleep until she walked through that door again, safe and sound.<p>

He looked around for something to do. "_Jane Eyre"_ was laying open laying open upside down on the arm of the couch, but he by-passed it. It was Daisy's favorite, he knew, but how many times could one re-read the same book? She had to have had it memorized by now. She'd even tried to get him to read it once, but he suspected it might have mushy parts scattered somewhere in all those pages of tiny print. Instead, he grabbed a stack of Luke's car magazines and settled on the couch for a long and worrisome night.

* * *

><p>The run-down cabin on the banks of the little creek was already full of teenagers by the time Daisy and the others arrived. A black '69 Chevelle with its radio blasting sat out front, drowning out any chance nature had at impinging on the already raucous party. Daisy hopped out of the car and ran up the steps, someone handing her a shot of moonshine before she even made it though the door.<p>

Outside the rain began to fall.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Daisy was pretty sure she was drunk. No, skip that -she'd lost count of how much she'd drank a long time ago. Thing was, the buzz seemed to have died off for the most part – replaced by a raging sense of paranoia. She felt like she couldn't breathe and stumbled through the cabin, tripping over people laying on the floor, running into people, until she finally made it to the door.<p>

Sshe drew in a deep breath of cool air, but still the feeling wouldn't go away. Something was wrong – not with her but _here,_ and every fiber of her being screamed at her to -

_Run!_

An arm slipped around her waist. "Hey, baby," murmured a guy's voice, "come on back in here." His hand drew back her hair and he leaned over to kiss her neck.

What she would normally consider a good time, made her cringe and step away, as a different face surfaced in her mind – one full of worry and concern. What would Enos think about her _now_?

"_...don't care what he thinks!" _she whispered, unsure of why she felt such a burning need to reaffirm that.

The guy reached for her, but she took another step back. "Hey, what's wrong?" he complained.

She shook her head. "Somethin' ain't right...feel sick."

"Well, don't barf on _me_, sweetheart."

He turned and went back inside, leaving her on the porch. Still, Daisy's unease lingered, strong enough to force her back inside to find Janey, the girl who'd driven her there. Her feet got tangled up and she slammed into the girl instead.

"I need t' go home," she told her. "right now. Somethin' ain't right, I need t' go home."  
>The girl looked at her like she was crazy. "Whad'ya mean? We just got here!"<p>

Fear ran through Daisy's veins as the unflagging sense of doom grew stronger. She took the girl by the arm, attempting to drag her away from the others. "Please," she pleaded. "I...I don't feel right, Janey, we gotta get outta here."

Worry clouded Janey's face. They'd all heard about the girl dying at some party up here a couple months ago. Hadn't someone said she'd been acting funny right before she passed out? She could tell Daisy'd had way more than she should've.

"You're sure?" she asked.

Daisy nodded. "Please, I need t' go home."

"Well, alright. I'll be there in a minute..."

* * *

><p>Daisy rolled over, away from the sun shining on her face, and yawned sleepily. Gradually, she awoke until..<p>

Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, looking around her room in confusion as her head began to pound terribly.

"_What th' hell?" _

How was it morning? It seemed like only five or ten minutes ago that she had been trying to find Janey at the party to tell her she wanted to go home. Now, here she was, laying in her bed wearing damp clothes and – she took a closer look at herself – Enos' Academy sweatshirt.

Oh my gosh, had she _said_ something to him? Her hands shook as she ran them through her tangled hair, terrified by her missing memories. She was sure she'd made quite an impression one way or the other. Had she been angry at him for waiting up for her? Had she been nasty to him again, like she had been before she'd left?

"He's gonna hate me for the rest of my life," she whispered into the silence.

Unfortunately, she supposed there was only one way to find out. She eased herself out of bed and into a standing position, her head feeling like it might split apart at any moment. She took off the sweatshirt and her wet clothes and dressed, then headed out to face the consequences of whatever she had done the night before.


	15. Hero of the Day  Part 2

_A/N: There was originally a Chapter 16 to this story. There still is, but I have moved that chapter into a new story called "The Story of Us- End Notes" and cut off the Story of Us here at Chapter 15. I just seems a fitting wrap up. _ Reviews for chapter 16 have been moved to the new story.

_Thank you so much for reading. Out of 100 people who read, less than 1% leave a review, but feedback is so very much appreciated, so even if it's just a short note, please consider leaving a review. _

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><p>"<em>The window burns to light the way back home -<br>a light that warms no matter where they've gone.  
>They're off to find the hero of the day,<br>but what if they should fall by someone's wicked way?"  
><em>~Metallica

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><p><em>The night before...<em>

The clock chimed, rousing Enos and he opened his eyes wearily and sat up, knocking the forgotten magazine off onto the floor. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the ticking of the clock on the mantel and the cozy couch beside the warm fireplace had lulled him into dreamland. Knowing if he stayed here where he was comfortable, he'd just fall asleep again, he got up and wandered into the kitchen.

He took the coffee pot from the stove, filling it halfway with water and putting a scoop of grounds in the top, before setting it back and turning on the burner. As his coffee percolated, he washed the dishes from the sink, dried them, and then put them away.

The rain spattered against the window as he worked, the rhythmic ticks of the drops hitting the glass making the house seem less quiet and desolate. When he finished the dishes, he grabbed his coat from its hook by the door and walked out onto the porch.

The night was pitch black with no moon shining made even darker by the overcast sky, and the rain shimmered in the patch of light from the kitchen window. He must have been sleeping for longer than he'd thought – that or it had rained cats and dogs earlier, what he could see of the driveway was flooded. He walked over to the edge of the railing and looked out into the night.

_Somewhere, _he thought_, somewhere out in that dark storm, is my Daisy._

Wind blew the cold rain into his face, and he winced as the invisible drops hit his eyes. Should he even dare to hope that she'd show up before morning? Even if she did, he'd never see her with the rain. He ran off of the porch, out into the downpour, and flipped the switch on the tall pole light that stood beside the barn. Instantly, the yard was flooded with harsh light, illuminating the slick, brown, mud of the drive, its surface alive with the splashing raindrops.

He had just stepped into the house and pulled out a chair to sit down at the table when a car's exhaust drifted in over the sound of the storm. He could see nothing beyond his own reflection out the window, so he hurriedly flipped off the lights. A dark colored sedan pulled up to the end of the drive and stopped. The taillights blinked as the passenger door opened and a figure emerged, nearly getting hit by the door as someone from inside the car pulled it shut. The lights flickered again and dimmed as the car tore off down the road, leaving the person alone. His breath condensing on the window blurred their features, but it didn't matter, he would know her form anywhere. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief from having Daisy home again, she stumbled and collapsed to the ground.

In a flash, Enos was out the door, splashing through the puddles until he reached her side. He knelt down, unmindful of the mud soaking through the knees of his sweatpants.

"Daisy! Daisy, are you alright?'"

He looked her over, but even with the pole light, it was too dark and too rainy to tell if she was injured. Instead of being upset, she seemed to think something was inexplicably funny.

"Enos?" she laughed, happily. "What'er _you_ doin' here?"

"What do ya' mean, what am I doin' here?" He took a closer look at her face. "Have you been _drinkin'?_"

She shook her head. "Jus a little," she assured him, flatly. "Does this mean ya' don't love me no more?"

He frowned at her question, but he'd been around enough drunk kids on Friday nights at the Academy to know not to take them seriously. He reached his arm around her, trying to help her off the ground. "Daisy, if I didn't love ya', I wouldn't be out here getting' muddy an' rained on," he answered, gruffly. "Stand up."

She tried her best to steady herself, but by the time she'd gotten shakily to her feet, Enos was tired of getting wetter and just wanted to be inside. He scooped her up in his arms and headed back down the driveway. She snuggled her head into the crook between his head and shoulder, the tip of her nose just grazing his cheek, her arms wound loosely around his neck. Enos focused on the house, trying to ignore the feel of her warm breath on his skin.

Slowly, he made it back up the steps, through the door, and into the kitchen with her, flipping the lights back on as he passed them. Fearing she would just fall over again if he stood her up, he sat her down on top of the table instead, keeping one arm around her to right her if she started to lean. He was relieved to note nothing more seriously wrong with her than a light scrape on her arm and wet clothes. She was shivering, wearing only a thin tank top and jeans.

"Dang it, Daisy, what happened to your coat? You're gonna freeze t' death dressed like that in th' middle of winter." He looked around, but there was nothing handy but a dishtowel. His own coat was soaked now.

She poked his chest. "Y' sound like Uncle Jesse."

"Yeah, well, maybe y' oughta listen to me once in a while, then. Can you sit there a minute without fallin' over?" he asked her, doubtfully.

Daisy nodded and he let her go experimentally. She swayed a bit and he hurriedly took off his wet coat, throwing it over another chair, then stripped off the sweatshirt he'd been wearing and slipped it over her head. She giggled as he attempted to guide her arms through the overlong sleeves.

"Y'ain't that far gone," he griped. "Come on, quit laughin' an' put your arms through."

She pulled the sleeves on and then wound her arms around his neck again. "You gonna put me t' bed, Enos?"

"I think you'd best drink some coffee for ya' go t' bed," he said, unwinding her arms from around himself. He lifted her off the table and set her feet on the floor before guiding her into the living room. "Here, sit on th' couch where it's warmer, or you're gonna catch cold," he said, depositing her there before going back to the kitchen.

He filled a cup half full of the fresh coffee he'd made for himself, adding two spoonfuls of sugar for Daisy's tastes since she hated the stuff. Her eyes followed his motions as he walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch beside her.

"Careful, it's hot," he said, handing her the brew.

She sipped gingerly at it, grimacing at the taste, before handing it back to him. "Yuck! That's nasty, I'm not drinkin' that."

"Huh uh," said Enos, pressing it back into her hands. "Take another drink, it'll warm ya' up."

"Fine." She took another sip before tossing the whole thing, cup and all, into the fireplace.

He groaned. "That's swell, Daisy."

She turned towards him, lit in the semi-dark room by the warm glow of the firelight dancing over her, and he sighed. Tomorrow, she'd be back to normal, ignoring him or gracing him with scathing remarks. At least right now, she had forgotten how much she seemed to dislike him. It had been so long since he'd even let himself _look_ at her. Now, well, she likely wouldn't remember much anyway in the morning, so he supposed she wouldn't mind him staring at her a bit - drunk or not, she was gorgeous.

A slow, sensual grin crossed her face, one that made him feel suddenly overly warm, and he looked away as somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm bleeped softly. Perhaps it would be better to get away from her after all.

Before he could move, she crossed the distance between them and, with a speed and agility surprising for her level of sobriety, slid onto his on lap, straddling his legs, her knees resting against his hips.

"Uh...Daisy," he said, startled, "y' ought not t' be doin'...that." He leaned back against the couch, away from her.

She ran both of her hands through his still dripping hair, and grinned down at him. "You're all wet, sugar."

"Thanks t' you," he reminded her. "Daisy, would'ja get offa me, please?" Unless he wanted to muscle her away, he was trapped, and to make matters worse, his body, embarrassingly enough, had decided it quite liked her current position.

Her fingers traveled from his hair down his neck to his chest, tracing the patterns of the dancing firelight across his bare shoulders. "I had t' come home."

"Oh...uh, well, I'm glad ya' came home, Daisy," he said, distracted by her caresses. "I's worried about you."

Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes. _ Just for a minute_, he thought...lost in the feel of her hands against his skin, the feel of her body pressed against his, the rush of his heart beating wildly under her fingertips. Without thinking, his hands moved up, circling her waist.

"Had t' come back an' tell you..."

"...Tell me what?"

She leaned down closer, her damp hair falling around him, her hands cupping his face. "D'ya' love me, Enos?" she whispered.

He tilted his head up, his lips brushing lightly against hers, any thoughts of escape drowned out by the desire raging inside him. "Till th' day I-"

She bit his bottom lip teasingly, and whatever he would have said went forgotten as he pulled her closer to him and kissed her deeply. Time dragged on until it seemed there was neither himself nor Daisy, but something borne of two souls entwined with no end and no beginning...

She tasted of coffee and...and...

_...moon-shine.._

The thought intruded - unwanted – like a thief to steal her away from his arms, and God help him, but he didn't _want_ to listen! He wanted _this__..._he wanted _her... _to feel her soft and warm against him and now everything he'd ever needed was here within his reach.

And yet, still, the sharp, metallic taste of alcohol was unmistakable on his tongue.

His conscience screamed at him to move - to get away from her before it was too late, and with an effort that was almost painful, he caught her face in his hands, forcing her gently back from him.

"Daisy, you're drunk," he whispered.

She mumbled indifferently as she aimed at his lips and missed, planting a kiss on his chin instead.

"Hun, you ain't thinkin' straight," he pleaded, "an' you shouldn't let anyone take advantage of ya'." Lifting her under her arms, he picked her up and deposited her on the couch. He stood up. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to help her. "You need t' sleep."

She took his hand. "I want another kiss," she pouted, leaning against him.

He gazed down into her hazel eyes. "First, promise me you'll never go an' do such a stupid thing again, runnin' off an' getting' drunk."

"I promise." She looked at him expectantly, but he pointed to the door of her room.

"Bed."

"Hey, you said you'd kiss me!"

"Ask me when you're not drunk as a skunk, an' I will," he told her.

Flashing him a disgruntled look, she stomped off, running into the wall before stumbling into her room. He waited until she had climbed into her bed and then flipped off the light.

"Night, Daisy Mae."

He'd almost made it back to the couch when she called to him.

"Enos..."

Sighing, he turned around and went back, leaning in the doorway to her room. "What?"

"Enos, don't leave me," her voice was quiet now, distraught – was she _crying_?

"Daisy, I'm just goin' back in th' living room. I'm not leavin'."

"I don't want ya' t' go to Atlanta. Please, Enos, come back t' Hazzard."

He turned the light back on. Her eyes were filled with tears.

"I'll think about it, Daisy," he said, softly. "Get some sleep."

He shut the light back off and closed the door, his heart full of so many things he hardly knew where to start. First things first though – he needed a shower.

A_ cold_ one.

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><p>Long after Daisy had fallen asleep, and after he'd heard the sound of Uncle Jesse's car pulling back into the drive, Enos lay on the bed in the spare room, staring up at the dark ceiling, a single, solitary thought playing over and over through his mind.<p>

Drunk people said lots of stupid things and did lots of stupid things...but sometimes..._sometimes _the things they said and did were things they _wanted_ but would never say otherwise.

What if..._what if she had meant it?_

If he moved to Atlanta, it would be over, and any slim chance that he might have had with her would be gone forever. Was staying in Hazzard worth the risk of him being wrong?

He spent the night wrestling with the two choices, balancing one against the other, knowing each could end with him being alone. By morning, he'd made his decision.

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><p>Enos figured, as he sat at the table waiting for Daisy to wake up, that the morning would play out in one of three scenarios; one, she'd remember nothing – which he really preferred; two, she'd remember bits and pieces that would leave her confused and embarrassed; or three, she'd remember everything and they'd have a lot to work out between them.<p>

It was almost eight-thirty before he heard her door open. He got up and paced nervously around the kitchen until she finally appeared, dressed in clean clothes, but obviously not feeling her best.

"Uh, here Daisy," he said, pulling out a chair for her, "have a seat. You can't be feelin' real good this mornin'."

She sat down in the chair he offered without a word while Enos poured himself another cup of coffee and took the seat across from her and waited for her to say something.

"Enos..." She looked down at her hands, a deep blush staining her cheeks, "I didn't...um...I just want to apologize if I said anything...unkind to ya' last night."

Enos raised his eyebrow at her. "Unkind?"

"I said some stuff I didn't mean before I left, an' I wanted to say I was sorry...only, I...I can't remember if I did or not."

He stared at her. "You can't remember?"

She looked up sharply at him. "That's what I said, alright?"

"Okay."

She hesitated. "Enos, I _swear_ I don't normally drink that much," she pleaded, trying to make him believe her. "I've never lost that much time before."

_That much time?_ Enos tried not to think about what may have happened to her in the other unaccounted for times. Suppose it had been some_ other guy _that had been with her last night? He tried to push the thought aside.

"What's th' last thing you remember?"

She shook her head. "I don't even know how I got home," she said, sounding a bit frightened by the thought, "maybe you oughta just tell me what happened."

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Well, someone dropped you off, you fell down in the mud, I made you drink some coffee, an' then I sent you t' bed."

"So...I didn't do anything...embarrassing?" The relief was evident on her face.

He grinned. "Embarrassing? Shucks, Daisy, you were a perfect angel."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I doubt that, but you're sweet for sayin' so."

He laughed, a laugh that lit up his eyes, and made her smile despite herself. It had been so long since she'd seen him happy.

"You did chuck th' coffee, cup an' all, into the fireplace if that makes you feel better."

"Actually, it does."

Enos rolled his eyes at her and got up to set his cup in the sink. "You also promised me you wouldn't go out gettin' drunk any more."

"I did?"

"You did."

"Well, I suppose it made sense at the time." He frowned at her and she laughed. "I'm just joshin' ya', Enos," she said, getting up and walking over to him. "I just...there ain't a lot t' do around here, ya' know."

"Well, I reckon you can go fishin' with me after I settle in."

"Settle in?" she asked, confused.

"I reckon Atlanta's got enough problems without me addin' to 'em," he said. "I thought I might see if Sheriff Harris needed any more deputies."

Her eyes lit up. "You mean...you'd stay in Hazzard?"

"If he'll have me," he shrugged.

Daisy nearly knocked him over with her hug, "Oh Enos! That's wonderful," she cried, happily. "I knew you didn't want t' work in Atlanta!"

"Yeah, well, we'll see, I guess," he stammered, wishing she would take her hands off his arms. Her touch reminded him of the night before, of her fingers running over his skin and how she felt pressed against him. He looked down at her, knowing he was blushing. His cup slipped from his hand and broke in half as it hit the floor.

"Ding-dang it!" He bent down and picked up the pieces, then tossed them into the trash.

"Between you an' me, we're gonna run out of coffee cups, Sugar." Daisy told him.

He laughed nervously. "Sorry, Daisy."

She waved his concern aside and walked over to where he now stood. "I just...I want t' thank you," she said, shyly, "for takin' care of me last night. Some guys would...well..."

He pretended not to understand what she was referring to. "Shucks, Daisy. I didn't do nothin' special."

"Yeah, well...you're my hero, Enos." She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

Thoroughly flustered, he looked for an escape from her. "I guess I'd best see th' Sheriff about a job," he said, picking up his coat from the chair he'd draped it over the night before. "I'll see ya', later, Daisy."

He practically ran out the door and down to his car while Daisy watched him, wondering what had gotten into him. He'd never acted so nervous and self-conscious around her before. Of course, it had been almost three years since they'd been alone together...and she hadn't flirted with him in ages. Maybe he just wasn't used to it anymore.

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><p>Enos drove into town, hope blossoming in his heart. <em>Her hero?<em> He supposed he could accept that designation in her life for now.

After all, in the end - the hero always got the girl.


End file.
